Lilacs In November
by Phoenix Starfire
Summary: Oh. My. God. I UPLOADED THE FIFTH PART! *pops champagne bottle* Amazing, n'est-ce pas? Anyway, here's part five of probably around ten or so... enjoy.
1. Part 1: Chapters 1-4

# Lilacs In November--Part One

  
  
**DISCLAIMER: I own Delilah, her family, and my own dog, who is snoring right now. Anything else belongs to JK or is part of an intricate government conspiracy. (Kidding. I hope.)**  
  
||[chapter one][1]||[chapter two][2]||[chapter three][3]||[chapter four][4]||  
  
  
  
**Chapter 0ne  


Rain

**

  
  


_"When it is dark enough, you can see the stars." Ralph Waldo Emerson_

     Chewing her quill pen thoughtfully, Delilah dipped it into the purple ink again and scribbled down another paragraph of her Potions summer homework--a five-roll essay on love potions, discussing their origination, a particular one of your choice analyzed by ingredient, and an opinion on why they were banned at Hogwarts. "A miniscule amount of Herb True-Love, or One-Berry, makes the Eternal Love Potion particularly delightful--and possibly dangerous," said Delilah aloud as she wrote. "If used properly, it gives the love potion's recipient a feeling of peace--what some would call utopian love. However, if used _im_properly, either by adding too little or too much, it can turn the love it bestows into a suicidal love. No matter how endeared the giver is to the recipient, the recipient will convince themselves that the one they 'truly love' does not love them back, and most of the time end their life." She proofread it and smiled.  
     Delilah's dog, Ryo, barked excitedly, looking at the window. Glancing over and pulling back the shades, Delilah saw an owl, frantically tapping at the window. No wonder; it was storming terribly outside. She opened the window and let in the soaked bird. _I must say, it took you long enough!_ said the owl huffily, shaking out her feathers and soaking the cushion on Delilah's bay window. _Leaving me out in that storm..._  
     _Baby_, replied Delilah mentally, grinning. With some effort and a book Professor Figg had given her last year at Hogwarts, she'd learned how to speak telepathically with birds and other flying creatures. Even though she was a Wingspeaker and could talk to them aloud, and had, she got the feeling the odd looks from people would be cut down drastically as long as they didn't hear her talking to a passing moth.  
     While the owl flew to the tray of birdseed that Delilah kept handy, the girl picked up the envelope the bird had dropped onto the seat. A grin came onto her face when she saw the return address: Harry Potter, c/o Sirius Black, Three Cauldron Lane, Hogsmeade, England. Sitting on her bed, she opened the envelope and pulled out a piece of parchment.

_Delilah~  
     How are your holidays going? Wait, don't tell me... I bet as bad as mine were before Sirius came down from the sky on a great big zonking motorcycle. No joke; he made Dudley spit his carrot sticks on the wall. After a brief discussion he had with the Dursleys, here I am in Hogsmeade.  
     I wonder... d'you think you could perhaps fly over here to spend the rest of the hols? They probably wouldn't miss you... not to mention that I need someone in my age group. Owling's getting pretty repetitious, and although Ron's been visiting, along with Cho, I get the feeling you need rescuing.  
     Oh, Sirius wants you to ask your mom about bubble gum pink robes... I wouldn't, he's got a positively rotten smile on his face. Write back with your answer.  
                              ~Harry_

     Delilah chuckled and set the letter aside. Closing her Potions essay into her book, she pulled out a fresh piece of parchment from her bag and got out a new bottle of ink--a black color that flashed with green and purple stars. She'd gotten it in Hogsmeade last year, and liked it so much she'd gotten an extra bottle for home. Wiping her quill clean, she dipped it into the new ink and began to write.

_Harry~  
     Actually, my holidays are going rather well. At the beginning, they tried to push me around, but I think that rather changed when I made some sparrows attack Mum in the garden while she was entertaining some friends. For the most part, they leave me alone in my room. Thank God.  
     No, I can't fly over there... one, it's a long trip for a bird. Two, what about my things? I can't take them with me, and if I leave them, they'll probably do something horrid to him. I'm afraid you'll have to survive on owls from the Delilah Riddle sector of England.  
     Bubble gum pink robes? On Andromeda Diana Kingston Riddle? Surely you jest! Tell me the story first... then I'll think about telling her.  
     Write me back and tell me how everyone is doing--you're the one in the magical loop here, not me. I anxiously await your reply. (Ha.)_  
                              ~Delilah

     Picking up her bag and taking out a special wizarding envelope that wouldn't get wet or anything in the storm, Delilah wrote the address on the cover and, folding the parchment, put it inside the envelope. The now-rested owl took the envelope in its beak. _You know, you'd think you'd be more sympathetic,_ sniffed the owl. _Can't you do a charm or something?_  
     _Sorry... underage,_ grinned Delilah. _Make Mr. Rover do it when you get back to Hogsmeade. Meanwhile, my heart shall profusely bleed buttermilk for you._  
     The owl used some mental curse words/phrases that would shock even Delilah's brother Jason with their creativity and vehemence, then flew out the window. Closing the window with a soft chuckle, Delilah whispered, "Your mother would definitely not approve." Turning off her light, she snuggled into her bed and listened to the storm raging outside. The thunder's rumbling and the lightning's crashes lulled her to sleep like a lullaby.  
  


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**Chapter Two  


The Flying Motorcycle

**

  
  


_"I can see a new horizon underneath the blazin' sky/I'll be where the eagle's flying higher and higher..."~John Parr, "St. Elmo's Fire (Man In Motion)"  
*Shut up, I like the song!*_

     The next week was pretty hellish. Delilah had learned how to throw a punch last year from Sirius... this came in handy. Of course, she got grounded for it, but that was no punishment at all for her. All she had to do to sneak down to the kitchen was turn into a gnat or something, change back into human quickly, grab some food, and go. Considering how often her mother, father, and brother were out of the house, it was ridiculously easy. After all, they thought she could only become birds. And what kind of bird could get through a nailed shut door?  
     Delilah was debating on whether or not to work ahead in Charms when a loud noise came up the street. It sounded like... a motorcycle. She hardly dared to hope.  
     A few seconds later, the door opened. She pressed her ear to the floor, her heart thumping with excitement. "--Delilah Riddle?" came a familiar voice. Her heart leaped. It was Sirius.  
     "No Delilah Riddle lives here," said Delilah's father stiffly. "I suggest you leave, before I inform the police."  
     Frantically, Delilah shoved some clothes through the bottom of the door so that they were on the steps to the attic. Changing into a gnat, she flew through and changed back. Pulling on the clothes, she listened.  
     "No, no... I'm sure this is her house," said Sirius pleasantly.  
     "I'm coming, Sirius!" she called, zipping her jeans. She raced down the stairs to the doorway to see Sirius in a helmet, grinning, and her father looking extremely irritated.  
     "Oh, good, you're here. Now, a little bird--no pun intended--told me you're wasting away here. Therefore, if you'd like to spend the next three weeks with myself and Harry in Hogsmeade..."  
     "Are you kidding?" exclaimed Delilah. "Come help me get these boards off of my door and we'll see how fast I go!"  
     "How did you get out?" snapped Delilah's mother, coming inside. She gaped when she saw who else was there. "Sirius Black!"  
     "Andromeda Ki--oh, pardon me, _Riddle_," said Sirius. "Would you like some bubble gum? I'm sure I could conjure up some pink..."  
     Andi Riddle's face twisted. "What are you doing here?" she snarled. "Come to corrupt my family?"  
     Delilah snorted. Her mother turned to glare at her. With a charming smile, Delilah called some birds to sit on the windowsill and stare at Andi. That shut her up rather quickly.  
     "Now, what's this about boards?" asked Sirius.  
     "Oh... they boarded me up in my room," she said nonchalantly. "Did a rather poor job of it, too."  
     Sirius followed her up the stairs to the haphazard boards. "Ah, now let's see... what's a good spell? Oh, I know. _Solvo Boards_!" The boards dissolved, leaving nails stuck at odd angles in the wood of her door.  
     "You'll have to unlock the door, too," said Delilah.  
     "Oh, that's easy enough. _Alohomora_!" The door clicked and swung open.  
     Her trunk was mostly packed--she'd been that eager to leave. Throwing in some parchment, quills, ink, and other things she'd had around the room, she clipped a leash on an excited Ryo and slipped on some sandals. Using a Weightless Charm, Sirius made her trunk float into the air. "Ready?"  
     "No, I want to stay," said Delilah sarcastically. They went down the stairs.  
     By now, Delilah's whole family was there. "You're going to get it when you get home," whispered Jason, cracking his knuckles.  
     This time, it was Sirius who performed the Furnunculus Curse. They went out the door, Delilah shutting it behind her with a kick.  
     "I see you've been practicing," noted Sirius as he tied her trunk to the enormous motorcycle. With a discreet wave of his wand, he made a small add-on carrier for Ryo.  
     "It's been a lifesaver," replied Delilah, putting her dog inside the compartment and tying his leash to the bike. "I've even been doing those dratted push-ups you made me do."  
     "Well done," said Sirius approvingly. "Now, hop on. We don't want those horrid Muggles of yours to come out here."  
     Delilah climbed onto the motorcycle and put on the helmet he gave her. Sirius pushed a blue button on the dashboard, and the bike--and everything on it--started to shimmer. "Invisibility," explained Sirius, kick-starting the bike. It roared to life, a noise no spell could cover. He pushed a few more buttons, and the bike rose into the air. Delilah laughed with glee as they started to fly.  
     "This is better than flying as a bird... I don't have to work!" joked Delilah.  
     "I've missed it," said Sirius. Delilah was silent; she knew about his Azkaban stay, and how he never liked to mention it. But whenever he thought about it, he _thought_ about it, very deeply.  
     "Uh, Sirius?" said Delilah. "I, ah, hate to break the moment and all that rot, but..."  
     "But what?"  
     "Drive." A guilty look on his face, Sirius righted the motorcycle, which was beginning to dip.  
     "Sorry."  
     "Oh, it's quite all right. Just don't do it again, or I'll slap you."  
     "Inviting," remarked Sirius lazily.  
     Delilah did slap him for that one. "Dirty old man!"  
     "Old man?" said Sirius, wounded. "I'm not a day over forty--oh." Delilah laughed as they soared through the clouds.  
  


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**Chapter Three  


Black and Blue

**

  
  


_"It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves." William Shakespeare_

     Four hours later, Delilah's bum was so sore if hurt to shift even the slightest bit. "How far are we?" she asked.  
     "Only an hour more to go." Delilah groaned. She couldn't take this anymore.  
     "Sirius, I'm sorry, but don't think too poorly of me for this," she said, and jumped off the motorcycle.  
     As she jumped, she visualized a winged unicorn. Her clothes fell away from her as she transformed. Her coat was coal black, and so was her horn. Her feathers on her wings had colors in their pattern--subtle, but beautiful. Using some unicorn magic, she made her clothes float up and plop into Sirius's lap.  
     "What the--you could have gotten yourself killed!" exclaimed Sirius. "I ought to--"  
     "Drive," interrupted Delilah, giving herself vocal cords. Grumbling to himself, Sirius turned back to the dashboard.  
     "You do realize you can be seen?" he said finally.  
     "Oh, right. Forgot." With a wave of her horn, black shimmering light covered her and made her invisible to all but Sirius. "Better?"  
     "Showoff teenage girl," muttered Sirius.  
     Delilah bared her teeth at him in a horse grin and flew ahead, then circled Sirius. "At least my bum doesn't hurt anymore. What did you pad that seat with? Bricks?"  
     "Stones," he retorted. "You deserve every ache."  
     "Sirius... I'm a big girl. Or winged unicorn... either or," she said firmly. "You don't have to chase after me and remind me to change my diapers. I've done fine so far."  
     "Well, yes, I suppose, but..."  
     "But nothing. C'mon... I'll race you to Hogsmeade." She zipped ahead, ignoring Sirius's yells.

     "Cheater," pouted Delilah as she changed back into her clothes on the side of his house. Sirius had his back to her.  
     "I did not cheat," he protested. "Did I impede you in any way?"  
     "You used your wand to Transfigure my dog into a propeller!"  
     "It depends on your definition of cheating," he said primly. "You never said I couldn't use magic."  
     "I never said you could."  
     "So?"  
     "Argh!" Delilah pulled on her left sandal. "I'm going inside to see Harry. Change my dog back or else I'll become a dragon and barbecue you. Or charbroil... neither's too bad for you."  
     "I bet he'd give you a stomachache." Delilah turned to see Harry leaning against the side of the house and grinning. "Or he might stay in there and turn into a tapeworm or something."  
     "Harry?" He came over to her and they hugged.  
     "Yes, I'm Harry."  
     "Harry..."  
     "Look, Lila, I know I'm Harry, you know I'm Harry... shall we stop saying my name now?"  
     "Harry!"  
     "Honestly, you're not getting the point. You thick Ravenclaws are all the--ow!"  
     "Take care in what you say about my house, lowly Gryffindor," grinned Delilah, letting go of Harry's ear. "Good to see you."  
     "Same to you. You've got to come see the house... Sirius actually has somewhere _decent_ to live, and it's _neat_!"  
     "Only because Arabella would beat me up if it were any other way. She and Remus live next door." Sirius smirked.  
     "Oh, _that's_ a shock... them setting up house together," chuckled Delilah. "Took them long enough." She'd gotten the feeling last year that it was only a matter of time before the Defense professor, Arabella Figg, moved in with Remus Lupin.  
     "Yeah... and the oddest thing is, a woman who used to babysit me, Mrs. Figg, is her mother," said Harry. "They have the same name and everything. In fact, all these years, Mrs. Figg has been making sure I don't get into trouble."  
     "Weird," shrugged Delilah. "Now, you said something about showing me around..?"  
     "I suppose I'll have to put your trunk and dog in your room," said Sirius dryly.  
     Delilah jerked her thumb at Sirius. "For an old guy, he's rather bright." She felt her scalp tingle, then in front of her eyes her hair turned bright blue. "Hey!"  
     She turned to see Sirius twirling his wand and looking smug. "Not bad for an 'old guy', eh?"  
     Delilah tossed her blue hair over her shoulder. "Thanks, Sirius, I needed something to scare the teachers with. Now, shall we, Harry?" They went inside the house.  
  


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**Chapter Four  


The Diary of Rowena Ravenclaw

**

  
  


_"Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known." Carl Sagan_

     "Sirius Black, you are so MESSY!" screamed Delilah as she rearranged the thousandth shelf of books. She didn't expect an answer; Sirius and Harry had gone into town to get some things at Zonko's. Pushing back her pink bandanna to wipe away any sweat, she placed books in piles according to title. "Pile A... Pile T... Pile X--X?" She wiped away dust to reveal the full title: Xylophones and You. "_Someone_ needed a hobby..." she muttered, making a new pile.  
     She'd been in Hogsmeade for a week, and been working on the library for that long. Of course, she'd been doing other things, like losing to Ron in chess whenever he came by... helping them with their homework... and getting her hair turned blue repeatedly for making cracks about Depends and Centrum Silver around Sirius. He'd done it so often, in fact, some strands of her hair were permanently blue. Once she'd shown him that, he'd lain off on that, switching instead to putting polka dots on everything. She preferred the blue hair; the streaks she had were a dark blue, and looked good, she thought.  
     Three shelves later, and she was done. The entire huge library, full of books left behind by the house's previous patron, had clean shelves. Going to the A pile, Delilah put them on the shelves, making over ten trips with armfuls of books.  
     As she put a stack on a middle shelf, she heard a cracking noise. Looking down, she groaned and slapped a hand to her forehead. The shelf was broken in half. One hal

   [1]: #chapter1
   [2]: #chapter2
   [3]: #chapter3
   [4]: #chapter4
   [5]: #top



	2. Part 2: Chapters 5-8

# Lilacs In November--Part Two

  
  
**DISCLAIMER: You know what? Screw it. Everything's mine. Even... even Harry! *ducks under desk to avoid barrage of lawsuits***  
  
||[chapter five][1]||[chapter six][2]||[chapter seven][3]||[chapter eight][4]||  
  
  
  
**Chapter Five  


Adventures With Floo Powder

**

_"The doors we open and close each day decide the lives we live." Flora Whittemore_

     "Well, at least there's _something_ Muggles do better," muttered Delilah as she listened to the Weird Sisters on the radio. Reaching over, she shut off her alarm and got up with a groan.  
     After she'd taken a shower and gotten dressed in some black pants and a shirt, she pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Sitting up on the bed and using pillows for padding, she opened the drawer and pulled out the diary. Pausing before she opened it, she got up, locked the door, then sat back down.  
     The cover was cracked with age, and Delilah opened it with care. Going past the title page, she came to the first page of writing, done in blue ink.

November 19, 991  
  


     Now that our school is open and running well, Salazar insists on us writing our own accounts for one year. One year from this date, we shall all convene and compare our notes, and maybe leave a remnant for our following magical descendants.  
     Very well; I shall begin. I am Rowena Lilac Ravenclaw, age twenty seven, born November 1st, founder of Ravenclaw House at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am often called the Wingspeaker, for I have that talent; to speak to any creature with wings. My three co-founders, and friends, and even sometimes enemies, are Helga Hufflepuff, the Truthsayer; Godric Gryffindor, the Lightningsword; and Salazar Slytherin, the Parseltongue. Perhaps you have heard of them; perhaps you haven't. I'm not here to talk about them; this diary is by me, about me, and it shall remain so. If someone else is reading this right now, know this; what follows in these pages are true events of my life for the span of one year. Learn from it, learn as I hope I shall have after the event. Just learn, for knowledge is the greatest gift one can bestow on another.  
                              Rowena.

     A knock came to her door, startling Delilah out of her reading. "Lila? Why's the door locked?" asked Sirius.  
     "Hmm... maybe because I'm in a house full of guys, changing?" she retorted, a bite of anger in her voice for being interrupted. Marking her place with a bookmark, she placed the diary back in the drawer.  
     "Oh. Sorry. Anyway, we were going to go to Diagon Alley today... is that all right with you?"  
     "Sure. Just let me get some shoes on," sighed Delilah. Sliding on some black clogs, she told Ryo quietly, "Sorry... you have to stay. I'll bring you back something nice, though." Unlocking her door, she stepped outside of the room and sighed, "Let's go... and if Harry has any Floo powder incidents, I'm not playing rescue mission."

     Five minutes later, Delilah was slapping ash from her clothes and standing in the Leaky Cauldron. "Tom!" she exclaimed. She'd been sending him owls all year, keeping true to her word.  
     They hugged. "How've you been keeping, dear?" asked Tom. "Oh, I have a new visitor this year... my grandson, just graduated from Beauxbatons. He's going to teach languages at Hogwarts." There was pride in the old man's voice. "Oi, Brett!"  
     With a faint popping noise, someone Apparated into the room. His back was to her, so all Delilah could see was golden blonde hair that was slightly long. "Other way, Brett. I want you to meet that nice young lady I was talking about."  
     He turned, and Delilah looked into the most amazing eyes she'd ever seen. They were a mixture of blue and--purple? "Ah, you must be Delilah. Grandfather wouldn't shut up about you," grinned the young man. He had a slight French accent--not like he was a native, but like he'd spoken it for a few years. "I'm Brett... Brett Levine." His hand was warm as he shook hers.  
     "Delilah Riddle... but I assume you already knew that," she grinned. A loud clattering noise made her turn and see Harry tumble out of the fireplace, hitting the poker stand. "Hopeless..." sighed Delilah.  
     Harry wiped off his blackened glasses and stood. "I heard that, Delilah Anne Riddle." He looked over at Brett, who looked amused at the actions happening in front of him. "Who's your friend?"  
     "Oh, this is Brett... I just met him, he's Tom's grandson," said Delilah. "Tom the bartender."  
     "Hello, Brett. I'm Harry... Harry Potter."  
     "Pleased to meet you... don't worry about the Floo powder thing, I had the _worst_ trouble with it in France. One time when I used it, I ended up in the girls' dorm... I swear it was accidental." His grin proved otherwise.  
     "Oh, if only I had that good of luck," sighed Harry. "I've only gotten Knockturn Alley so far."  
     Brett winced. "Grandfather told me about that place... sounds like our La Rue De L'Art Foncés." His French was perfect, and he slid into it with ease. Even Delilah, who had taken a few years of French in her Muggle school, couldn't hope to be that good.  
     While Brett and Harry discussed Floo powder incidents, Sirius arrived. "If you boys are done talking about Floo powder's merits, I think Sirius is patiently waiting, Harry," said Delilah. "Nice meeting you, Brett; good to see you, Tom."  
     "Et toi, Mademoiselle Riddle," remarked Brett. "'Bye, Harry."  
     "I think he fancied you," whispered Harry to Delilah as Sirius tapped the brick to open the gateway.  
     "Rubbish," retorted Delilah. But she remembered Brett's eyes, and smiled.  
  


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**Chapter Six  


Of Confrontations and Pink Ink

**

_"I still find each day too short for all the thoughts I want to think, all the walks I want to take, all the books I want to read, and all the friends I want to see." John Burrough_

     While Harry and Sirius went to Gringotts to get some more money so that Harry could get a few more things, Delilah was in Quality Quidditch Supplies, buying an early Christmas present for Ron, when she heard a familiar, cold voice say, "Come _on_, Father... how do you expect me to win in Quidditch with Potter on a Firebolt?"  
     "I had hoped your talent would be enough," came back a silky voice. "This new Firebolt 3000 should not be necessary. You are a Malfoy, and you should win like one."  
     Draco Malfoy, prodding his father into buying him a new broom. Delilah shook her head and groaned. How satisfying it would be to hex them both... wait.  
     Voldemort would be looking for her, along with his Death Eaters. He'd probably promote anybody who captured her, dead or alive... preferably dead. In fact, the reward would be enough to even kill her in public and risk everything...  
     As quietly as possible, Delilah paid for the autographed Chudley Cannons poster she'd selected and snuck out of the store. She breathed a sigh of relief, then... "Hey! Girl!" She turned to see Lucius Malfoy looking at her, drawing out his wand.  
     "I believe her name is Delilah, Lucius." Delilah turned to see Brett, his wand out, walking toward the elder Malfoy. "Now, what was your business with her?"  
     "Well, well... Brett Levine, the young French upstart," sneered Lucius. "How've you been faring since last we met?"  
     "Oh, better than that friend of yours... what was his name? Nott? Or was it Avery?" Brett twirled his wand. "Now, Lucius, what was your business with Delilah?"  
     "Nothing... just thought she was somebody else," muttered Lucius. He went back inside, Draco following and asking why he'd backed down.  
     "Language teacher my happy bum," murmured Delilah to Brett as they walked off. "Auror?"  
     "Not quite," he replied with a grin. "Hear about the Beauxbatons attack?"  
     Delilah nodded. Last spring, after recovering from the Hogwarts defeat, Voldemort had attacked Beauxbatons. Unfortunately, Madame Maxime had been entertaining some giants, and they'd taken care of the problem easily.  
     "Well... I got cornered, and had to, well, kill one," said Brett uneasily. Delilah's jaw dropped. "Uh oh... you're offended," he sighed.  
     "One? _One_? What do you mean, one? You didn't get rid of two of the buggers?" Delilah's eyes twinkled.  
     "Funny," remarked Brett dryly. A pause, then, "Grandfather tells me you're a sixth year. You look older."  
     "Hey, I'm sixteen. That's old enough for me," she grinned. "How old are you?"  
     "Just turned nineteen," he smiled. Another pause, then, "Are you almost done with your shopping?"  
     Delilah grimaced. "I have to get books and parchment still, and maybe a new bag." She hesitated, then asked, "Care to come along?"  
     "If your sixth-year books are anything like mine were, you'll need all the help you can get carrying those monsters," chuckled Brett. "Lead the way."

     "What do you _mean_ pink ink is for sissies? Step closer and say that, Frenchie," laughed Delilah, holding up a fist. While the attendant got the books she'd be needing, Delilah was picking out ink and parchment--with unnecessary input from Brett.  
     "Look, the only person I know who used pink ink was Fleur Delacour. OK, so she wasn't a sissy; she was just, ah, very popular with the guys."  
     "Oh? And what makes you think I'm not?" said Delilah, arching an eyebrow. It was so easy to joke with Brett; he had a good sense of humor. Not to mention he was extremely cute... _Oh no... you're not getting a crush on him. You just met the guy. So what if he's got those beautiful eyes, and a great personality, and... Drat._  
     "Just a guess," he shrugged. "I suppose I'll know when I'm doing my tutoring bit this year. I assume you'll be taking classes?"  
     "Je parle très bien français, merci beaucoup," said Delilah, sounding offended. Then she grinned. "But if you're teaching Dragonese, I'll gladly accept."  
     "I might be at that," admitted Brett. "Are you going to get that ghastly pink?"  
     "No," she said, putting the bottle back. Brett breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm going to get this neat candy set. When you say the right word, the ink smells like the kind of candy it is. See, the green is Chocolate Frogs, and the blue is..." Brett groaned.  
     "Would you be offended if I beat my head against the shelf repeatedly?"  
     "I certainly would. You'd upset the ink. And I was joking, you prat." Picking up instead a new jewel set whose ink shimmered, she went to the front and set the bottles on top of her stack of books. "Oh, and five packs of white parchment, please," she smiled.  
     Brett goggled. "Are you afraid Hogwarts will have a toilet paper shortage? _Mon Dieu_!"  
     "Stuff yourself, Levine. I enjoy my writing." Taking fifteen Galleons and two Sickles from her red velvet money pouch, she held on to the two bags and handed one to Brett. "You promised."  
     "I suppose I did," he admitted, taking the bag. "But I expect payment for this strenuous work."  
     Delilah stopped in the doorway. "Brett... whatever your middle name is... Levine, I will _not_ snog you!" she declared loudly, knowing full well people would stare.  
     "Oh really? That's a shame. I suppose we'll have to go to Florean Fortescue's instead," replied Brett with a devilish grin.  
     Delilah clapped her free hand to her heart dramatically. "Oh no... he's breaking out the big guns. Ice cream."  
     While they were going to the ice cream parlor, Delilah saw Harry and Sirius. "Hold on... I've got to tell them where I'm going," she said, rolling her eyes. "Otherwise Sirius will lecture me. The man's a mother hen." Waving her hand, she yelled, "Hey, Harry! Sirius!"  
     They came over to her. "Lila, where've you bee--ohhhh," said Harry knowingly.  
     "Oh, go stuff yourself, Harry, and clean that dirty mind. I'm going to go to Florean's with Brett... when you're ready to go, just come by and get me, or if you're leaving now, I'll be back by... er... midnight," said Delilah impishly.  
     Harry and Sirius exchanged a look. "Just go back to the house when you're done," said Sirius. "And you'll be back by six, or I'll be the one stuffing... with the help of a taxidermist."  
     "I know a good one," said Brett helpfully. Delilah kicked him, then smiled at Sirius.  
     "Six it is, then. Bye." And with that, she turned and left with Brett.  
  


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**Chapter Seven  


Snogging? I Think Not

**

_"On ne voit bien qu'avec le coeur. L'essentiel est invisible pour les yeux." ["It is only with the heart that one sees rightly. The essential is invisible for the eyes."] Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Le Petit Prince [The Little Prince]_

     "Over a hundred languages, and you're fluent in _all_ of them?" goggled Delilah, her spoonful of chocolate ice cream poised over the dish. "What are you, a bloody language library on feet?"  
     "So sayeth the Wingspeaker and healer," retorted Brett, eating a spoonful of cookie dough ice cream. "I don't know how I do it... it's, I don't know, easy. It should be more difficult, I know."  
     "Maybe you've got phoenix blood," suggested Delilah with a wry grin. "Aren't they the language experts?"  
     "Nope, the lizard form of basilisks are the ones. They're called basilisks, but they look more like lizards, and have a mastery of all languages," remarked Brett absently, then flushed. "Sorry... I liked Care of Magical Creatures."  
     "Brett, whenever you are in my company, you need not worry about liking animals," said Delilah solemnly. Then she cocked her head to the side, considering. "Unless, of course, we're talking about Blast-Ended Skrewts here. In that case..."  
     They both laughed. Out of the corner of her eye, Delilah saw the clock, and her hand flew to her mouth. "5:58! I'm going to be slaughtered!"  
     "Best get back to the Cauldron, then. Grandfather is probably worried sick," grinned Brett. "Worth it, though... now I know why he's so fond of you."  
     "And now I know why he never mentioned you," replied Delilah with a cheesy grin as she stood. "Kidding."  
     They returned to the Leaky Cauldron at a fast pace. Delilah stood in front of the fireplace, bags on the floor, and took a pinch of Floo powder from the mantel. "G'bye Tom... bye, Brett," she said, and threw in the powder. "Ah... Sirius Black's house, Three Cauldron Avenue, Hogsmeade?" she said questioningly. "Hope that's enough information." Picking up her bags, she entered the green flames and swirled around to go back to Sirius's house.

     "Did we have fun, Miss Riddle?" teased Ron when she entered the room, covered in soot. "Harry was telling me all about it... you snogging a twenty-year old you just met... for shame."  
     "One, he's nineteen; two, we didn't snog," said Delilah, shaking out her clothes. "Harry's getting as bad as that Rita Skeeter Padma told me about."  
     "That is going far too far," said Harry, entering the room. "Have a good sno--er, time?"  
     Glaring at him, Delilah made her face grow sparse feathers, knowing full well it freaked Harry out. While he was having bouts of extreme disgust, she went to her room. She thought of it as hers by now; more so than her attic on Trumpet Avenue.  
     "Hello, baby," she crooned to Ryo, picking him up and cradling in her arms. "How'd Mama's boy do by himself? Did we take our daily potion? Oh yes, we're a good boy." Every day Delilah gave Ryo a potion to stop his fire-breathing.  
     Digging in one of her bags, she pulled out a squeaky doll and a tiny black robe. Putting the robe on the doll so that it looked remarkably like a Death Eater, Delilah threw the doll to Ryo. He caught it in the air and happily began to chew on it.  
     Locking her door once more, Delilah pulled out the diary and turned the next page. What she saw made her groan. It was written in a language she'd never seen. All it looked like was squiggly lines to her... wait. Brett might know something.  
     But she'd just met him... could she really trust him with something like this? Pensively, Delilah caressed the ancient cover. "I'll see when I get to Hogwarts," she promised herself. Wrapping the book in some old robes, she set it gently in the top of her trunk and opened her new copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Six. Settling herself in, she began to read through, taking care not to read aloud lest she make anything happen and have the Ministry leap all over her.  
     Pausing, she closed the book and reached for another one--Guide to Magical Creatures--Advanced Level. The Monster Book of Monsters only went so far, apparently. Thumbing through it, she stopped on the Basilisk entry.

_     While many believe there is only one kind of basilisk--the type that resembles a serpent--there is another one, albeit a rare one. This breed, also called a basilisk, has a pearl-gray hide with bumps. Instead of resembling a serpent, it instead looks like a lizard. Walking on two legs, this basilisk breed can control its gaze. When it gets upset, that gaze can turn anything into stone. Another ability this basilisk has that the serpentine version does not is the ability of tongues--an ability only two other magical creatures have, the sphinx and some forms of dragons._

     So, Brett had been right. "Hm. You learn something new every day," shrugged Delilah. Closing the book, she went downstairs to fix something for dinner, hoping Sirius hadn't lit the kitchen on fire yet.  
  


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**Chapter Eight  


Parseltongue's Benefits

**

_"Something that has always puzzled me all my life is why, when I am in special need of help, the good deed is usually done by somebody on whom I have no claim." William Feather, The Business of Life_

     When Delilah saw the kitchen, she groaned and slapped her forehead. The entire room was coated in a fine coating of white flour. In the center of the room, their hair frosted with white, Harry's glasses covered, were Harry and Ron, a bag of flour between them. "It just... popped," said Ron in an awed voice.  
     "Idiots..." muttered Delilah. "SIRIUS! YOUR WAND IS NEEDED!"  
     "Huh?" Sirius came into the kitchen and stopped to stare. He clapped his hands over his mouth; a sound came out like he was trying to stifle laughter. He didn't succeed--soon he was cracking up. "Your faces!" he whooped. "You look like ghosts!"  
     "Sirius. Wand. Clean," said Delilah, wanting to laugh also, but keeping a straight face.  
     "Oh. Right." With a flick of his wand, the flour went neatly back into the bag. "Is that it?"  
     "Yes," sighed Delilah. "Harry, Ron, out. You might blow up the entire kitchen next, and I'm not risking takeout for the rest of the summer. Or worse yet, Remus's cooking." The two boys grimaced; they'd sampled some of Lupin's cuisine, and it hadn't been palatable. Delilah had heard the story, although knowing them they'd increased the nastiness factor tenfold with each telling.  
     While Delilah cooked, her mind drifted to the diary. She hoped Brett knew the language; he ought to, considering he was going to be a language tutor... maybe Dumbledore could help, but he might not be a linguist. If he was, why would he hire a language tutor? He could have just done it himself after classes...  
     She stopped pondering and turned the chicken over before it started to burn. Shaking her head to clear it, she concentrated on the preparation of food. She'd need to; the three guys ate like vacuum cleaners.  
     After dinner, Delilah let the guys do the dishes. If it was one thing she hated, it was cleaning up after herself when she cooked. Going up to her room, she flipped through the book to see if any more entries were decodable--or better yet, in English.  
     Her face fell with every page turned. Every page was in an obscure language... all but one of the last pages. It was in English again. Eagerly, Delilah read the entry.

November 1, 992

     Today is my birthday--and it is a double joy for me. Not only am I blessed with another year, Salazar and I are ever closer to discovering the cure for the Killing Curse. The combination of my healing and Wingspeaker lore, and his efficiency--all right, brilliance--at potions will lead to the creation of our Life Restoration Draught--I'm sure of it. There is only one step left...  
     I must go now--Godric is about to tear down the castle with that sword of his. Must be showing off for Helga again. I bid you adieu.  
                              Rowena.  
     Delilah's heart thumped with excitement. A cure for Avada Kedavra! The significance of the journal seemed to increase tenfold... the lives that could be saved, if people could be revived from it..! It was mind-boggling.  
     "Hey Lila, we're done with the dishes, and--hey, what's that?" Harry had entered the room. Furious, Delilah put it back in the drawer and slammed the drawer shut.  
     "My God, Harry, have you never heard of _knocking_?!" she exclaimed. "What that was was none of your damned business."  
     Harry folded his arms over his chest. "Oh, really?"  
     Delilah sighed. "All right, fine. But if you look at it and tell anyone else, in any way, shape, or form, I'll suffocate you with your own invisibility cloak--slowly." She pulled the book back out.  
     "'The Diary of Rowena Ra--'" Harry broke off and stared at her. "Where did you find this?" he whispered.  
     "Sirius's library," replied Delilah tersely. "Don't bother reading it--only two pages are in English, the others are in all of these odd languages. You're welcome to look if you must, though." She'd hardly ever been able to refuse Harry anything--his determination almost equaled hers. Besides, maybe he could help... _Oh, right... Harry's a language expert. Sure._  
     As he turned the pages with care, he stopped on one whose writing looked like snakes. "I... I can read this," he said. "I think it might be the written form of Parseltongue."  
     "Don't just stand there... read it to me, and slowly!" said Delilah excitedly, grabbing parchment, ink, and quill. Dipping her quill into the ink, she started to scribble, using the bedside table for a writing surface.  
     After he had read a few lines, Harry said, "Wait. Stop writing. You don't need to."  
     Delilah's jaw dropped. "I don't..."  
     "Look at the diary while I read." Delilah peered over his shoulder. Harry began to read again. Her eyes widened. As he read every word, the snake shapes shifted to form other letters... English.  
     "It's... it's translating itself," she whispered, not taking her eyes off of the shifting letters on the ancient parchment. "You just have to use the key... the language it's written in. Once you do..."  
     "You can get it the easier way," finished Harry, breaking in his reading. The remaining drawn snakes seemed to look at him reproachfully. "Oh. Right. I'll keep on."  
     When the last of the snakes was gone, Harry turned the book toward Delilah. "Read it... my throat is killing me," he grinned.  
     "Lazy..." muttered Delilah under her breath and flashing Harry a cheeky grin. She read the diary's contents aloud.

December 26, 991

     Yesterday was the first Christmas at Hogwarts. It was a happy occasion--laughter, merriment, and of course, presents. Let's see... what did I get? From Godric, a necklace--he must be brace indeed, giving me jewelry in front of Helga's nose. Helga gave me a canary in a cage... while she's very kind, she sometimes forgets I dislike cages. The canary is flitting around the room now, cheeping so that I can hardly hear myself think. And, of course, Salazar. While he seemingly gave me a book on potions and a sneer, I know this other gift is from him. He should've known his owl would talk to me when it delivered a package wrapped in silver cloth, with no tag. Mayhap he wanted me to find out; I don't know. Inside the package was a beautiful dress. Oh, Merlin! You should've seen it. First, when I opened it, lilac petals sprang out at me and showered the room. It was beautiful. Then, underneath the petals was a dress of the deepest midnight blue velvet. Disgustingly lavish, and entirely beautiful. I believe I'll wear it on New Year's and see if he blushes. Salazar Slytherin blushing... that would be a sight!  
     As for the presents I gave, Godric received a matching sheath for that God-awful sword he keeps banging around. I gave Helga a broom--now maybe she'll be able to beat me in sprints. Not. I admit, I grew flustered at the thought of giving Salazar a gift. So, I got the first thing I could think of--a potions set of rare things. Then my conscience disturbed me, so I went to a shop and got him a ring. Not just any ring, either. This one was made of purest silver, set with an emerald. Inlaid in the stone, by means I don't wish to think about, is a tiny snake. I shape-changed into a hawk and placed it on his bedside table myself.  
     My cheeks are growing warm--it's far too hot in this room. I shall bid you adieu and go take a bath.

                              Rowena.

     "So. Ravenclaw and Slytherin had a thing for each other," said Delilah finally. "I thought as much from the other pages."  
     "How do you know? They just got each other presents!" protested Harry.  
     Delilah arched an eyebrow at him. "Harry James Potter, you know as well as I do that that is total codswallop. Read between the lines, my friend." She closed the book and put it back inside the drawer. "Remember what I said about not telling anybody. This applies to everyone... including Cho, Ron, Sirius, Hedwig..."  
     "I get the picture," laughed Harry, holding up his hands in surrender. "By the way, did you know your handwriting looks exactly like Ravenclaw's? Just food for thought." He disappeared from the room in a flash.  
     Frowning, Delilah opened the journal again. She held up her half-finished parchment against it. He was right; they could've been written by the same person. "Odd," murmured Delilah, knowing her word choice wasn't exactly right. She was too sleepy to think of a better one, though. Turning off her light and going under the blankets, she cuddled Ryo close and shut her eyes.  
  


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_     And so part two ends. I'll let you draw your own conclusions. =) ~Phoenix_

* * *

   [1]: #chapter5
   [2]: #chapter6
   [3]: #chapter7
   [4]: #chapter8
   [5]: #top



	3. Part 3: Chapters 9-12

# Lilacs In November--Part Three

  
  
**DISCLAIMER: See the previous chapter if you really want to read this. For that matter, see a psychiatrist. What sane person reads these anyway? *ducks back under desk to avoid fruit thrown by angry disclaimer-readers***  
  
||[chapter nine][1]||[chapter ten][2]||[chapter eleven][3]||[chapter twelve][4]||  
  
  
  
**Chapter Nine  
Leaving**

_"Who's more foolish? The fool, or the fool who follows him?" Obi-Wan Kenobi, Star Wars_

     "Harry, if we are late and I don't meet Padma, Lavender, and Parvati in time, the first chance I get I will turn you into an ant and fry you with your own glasses lenses," growled Delilah as she stood outside of the bathroom. Harry was inside, doing his hair and God-knows-what-else in preparation of meeting Cho at King's Cross.  
     "I'm almost done. Keep your shirt on," replied Harry.  
     "No, no, no... you see, I need a shower, and I don't take showers with my shirt on," said Delilah pleasantly. "But you, my dear, shall soon be taking one with yours on should you take too much longer."  
     The door swung open and Harry stood there, goo in his hair, obviously trying to weigh it down. It was no use; his hair still went every which way. "All right, fine, you can have the bloody bathroom!" he yelled, stalking down the hall.  
     "Thank you, Princess," called Delilah sweetly, going inside and shutting the door. Looking in distaste at the messy counter, she swept everything out of the way and set her clothes down. Turning the water on, she cursed as it hit her. Someone--a someone with black hair and green eyes, Delilah would bet--had used all the hot water. "Princess," she said sweetly, "think you could find Sirius and have him conjure up some hot water? It seems to be gone, yet for a worthy cause... getting rid of your BO."  
     Harry told her where to put the suggestion, how to do it, and in what direction. "Why Harry... that's broomstick abuse!" gasped Delilah. She ducked her head back inside the door just in time to avoid being hit by his sneaker. "Love you too, Princess," muttered Delilah as she took the quickest shower known to man and dressed. She wore simple clothes--jeans, sweater, sneakers. As always, she wore her black opal, but tucked behind her shirt so as not to draw attention. Most people would do a lot of things for a gem like this--stealing at the bottom of the list of bad things.  
     She breezed downstairs, where Sirius and Harry were sitting at the table. "Morning, Sirius, Princess," she greeted them.  
     Sirius snorted into his eggs. "'Princess'?" Harry glared at them both.  
     "Yes, Princess. He spent an hour and a half in that bathroom, used all of the hot water, about two tubes of glue, or whatever is on his hair, and... my God, something reeks," she said, plugging her nose as she poured cereal into a bowl. "Why'd you use all the hot water if you ended up taking a bath in cologne?"  
     "At least I took pains with my appearance," Harry shot back. "At least I have someone to look good for."  
     Writing off Harry's somewhat hurtful comments to agitation, Delilah said comfortingly, "Don't worry, Harry; not only am I not after Cho, I won't tell her how long you took in the bathroom." She grinned widely. "But I'm still going to call you Princess. Just not in front of a crowd of people. I _do_ have a heart, you know."  
     "Heart my bleeding h--" started Harry, but Sirius interrupted.  
     "Harry, she's just trying to get your goat. I should know; Lily did it to us all the time. And you're just as sensitive to it as James was."  
     "Yeah, Princess. Listen to the old gu--kidding," said Delilah hastily when Sirius lifted his wand at her. "I'm happy with blue hair--no need for blue spots too." She ran a hand through her hair, accentuating the two blue streaks that still clung to her black hair. "By the way, you get to explain to McGonagall what happened. Flitwick shouldn't mind; he'll think I'm showing house spirit, I hope. But if McGonagall faints in Transfiguration..."  
     "...I'll take pictures?" finished Sirius helpfully.  
     "Ha. Funny." Finishing her corn flakes in record time, Delilah took Ryo for a quick walk around Hogsmeade, to work off some energy before the long train ride. With luck he'd sleep--but Delilah wasn't lucky when it came to quieting down her dog.  
     When they came back, Delilah saw that all of their things were in the back of a wizard cab. "Not bad," she said with a nod.  
     "Not bad at all," said Harry, coming up behind her. "Look, I'm sorry about the whole thing this morning. I just..." He blushed a deep red.  
     "No problem... Princess," said Delilah with a wicked grin. She dove into the cab, laughing and dodging him.  
     Scooting over in the seat, she allowed Sirius in. Next came Harry, looking a wee bit disgruntled, though not as bad as he'd been. "Keep in mind, I have an inside person in your house," he said.  
     "And I have friends all around," smiled Delilah serenely. She held her arm out of the window, and a robin perched on it. He pecked her hand affectionately, and flew off.  
     "Now that we're done debating on who can get who back the best... King's Cross Station, please," Sirius told the driver. Tipping his hat to Sirius, the driver started his car and went. Delilah looked back for a couple of minutes, watching the house go. When it was gone, she turned back around, knowing she wouldn't find so much acceptance at Hogwarts as she had here.  
  


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**Chapter Ten  
Return of the Jedi Platform**

_"Great spirits have always encountered violent opposition from mediocre minds." Albert Einstein_

     Wizard cabs were definitely more fun than Muggle ones, Delilah decided. While the wizard cab looked on the outside like any other cab in London, the inside was filled with all sorts of neat gadgets. A meter in the passenger seat counted up the fee in both pounds and Wizard money. Instead of kilometers per hour, Delilah saw that the speedometer went from "Hurry it up, slowpoke!" to "Slow down! You're going to hit an old Muggle woman!" A green light on the dashboard flashed every now and then whenever they got close to a red light; instantly, the lights would change to green and they'd be on their way without having to stop. All in all, quite a way to travel.  
     "Dudley got a girlfriend," said Harry out of nowhere. Delilah's eyes widened.  
     "What?!" By now, she'd heard all about Harry's piggish, dull cousin--except for this. "Who?"  
     "Goes to a school near him. Her name's Hortense. She's near as big as him, and just as mean. She visited once... she's why I came to Sirius's earlier than I would've," said Harry.  
     "Hortense Dursley," murmured Delilah, shaking her head. "I'd hate to see their children. Ten to one they'd come out as piglets or baby whales or something." She shuddered at the thought, as did Harry.  
     "We're here," announced the cabbie. "That'll be two Galleons and ten Sickles." Sirius gave him three Galleons and a Sickle. Once their things were out of the cab, the driver tipped his hat at them and he and his cab promptly Disapparated to the residence of his next customer.  
     "Well... I'd think you mighty sixth-years know the way from here," said Sirius. Delilah was confused for a moment--why wouldn't he be coming along?--then realization set in. Although he'd been proven innocent, many a person would still feel him a threat. Old habits died hard.  
     On a burst of courage, Delilah flung her arms around him. "Thank you, Sirius... for everything," she whispered.  
     Sirius hugged her back. "You'd better not forget to write me," he threatened.  
     "Never!" said Delilah in a fake tone. She saw his hand drop toward his wand and backed away, saying, "You can't curse me... we're in a public place."  
     "Aren't we suspicious?" said Sirius, pulling out two packages from his pocket. He handed one to each of them. "Don't open these until you're on the train," he instructed. "Now, Harry, come give your old godfather a hug."  
     Smiling, Delilah went to get trolleys, letting them have a "private moment". She came back with two and put each of their individual things on them. Picking up Ryo, she paused and looked at the cute little face. "Ryo... what would you say to spending the term with your Uncle Sirius? You'll be safer, and I can visit you... and he'll want the company, I think."  
     Ryo licked her nose and wagged his tail. Picking up his bag, she walked back to Sirius. "Er, Sirius... a favor?"  
     He looked at the dog and its holder oddly, but nodded. "If I can."  
     She bit her lip. "Do you... do you think you could keep Ryo with you for the term? He'll be safer with a full-fledged wizard and a rampaging hippogriff to protect him... you know, just in case somebody gets... notions." _Like Pansy Parkinson,_ thought Delilah darkly. She knew for a fact that the Slytherin girl hated her guts. To harm Delilah, she wouldn't stop at animal abuse.  
     "Well... all right," said Sirius. He took the dog and his bag of stuff. "You're going to visit him, right?"  
     "Every official Hogsmeade visit... and some not-so-official ones," said Delilah, whispering the last part. "Sirius, I really appreciate this. Thanks."  
     "No problem," he said, ruffling her hair. "You two had better go."  
     The two teenagers pushed their trolleys inside, waving back to Sirius. They idly chatted until they went through the barrier, then parted ways--Harry to his Gryffindor friends, Delilah to her Ravenclaw ones. They both needed a break from each other after a solid month together.  
     Looking around, she saw a familiar plait of black hair with silver woven into it. That was Padma--she wore silver in her hair, Parvati wore gold. It was almost the only way to tell them apart.  
     "Padma!" she called. Padma Patil turned and smiled at her best friend, then came toward her, pulling her trolley behind her. The two girls embraced.  
     "How was your summer? Where's Ryo? Oh my God... your hair!" exclaimed Padma.  
     "Slow down!" laughed Delilah. "The second half of my summer was great, Ryo is staying with Sirius, and Sirius cursed me one too many times. Some people just can't take a joke." She sniffed delicately.  
     As always, she felt the eyes on her--people staring at the freak. It had started last year, after the battle with the Death Eaters, and apparently hadn't let up much over the summer. She'd gotten used to it by now, but was still painfully aware she wouldn't be winning too many popularity contests. She had her true friends, though, and that was all that mattered.  
     "All right, young lady... what was this about a chance of a lifetime?" asked a familiar voice behind her. She turned to see Brett standing there, hands on hips, a grin on his face. She'd owled him just yesterday about the diary, but hadn't mentioned it just in case someone else read it.  
     "Well, I'm not going to get it out here!" she said. "Find me on the first weekend... I'll show you then. It's worth the wait, trust me." A sharp pain occurred on the back of her calf. She turned to look at Padma, who was giving her an "introduce me" sort of look. "Oh! Brett, this is Padma Patil, my best friend. Padma, this is Brett Levine, the new languages teacher. Will we be calling you Professor?" she asked him.  
     "Yeah, I'll be Professor Levine," he said, making it sound official. "Good to meet you, Padma. Sorry to cut it short, but..." He tapped his watch.  
     "Bye Br--I mean, Professor Levine," called Delilah.  
     "Bye," called Padma. Once he was out of earshot, Padma stared at Delilah. "How in the heck did you meet him?"  
     "You know Tom at the Leaky Cauldron? Or at least who he is?" Padma nodded. "Brett is his grandson."  
     "Lucky," said Padma.  
     "Riddle! Patil Number Two! Over here!" Lavender Brown's voice carried extremely well over the din of various people and animals.  
     "That's our cue," grinned Delilah. They pulled their trolleys toward the voice.  
  


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**Chapter Eleven  
Gossip**

_"It's good to shut up sometimes." Marcel Marceau *Dying... the irony... it's killing me...*_

     Inside the compartment were Lavender, Parvati, Lisa Turpin, and Mandy Brocklehurst. Delilah was friends with them all... for the most part.  
     "Talked to any birds lately, Lila?" joked Lisa.  
     "Actually, yes," grinned Delilah. "There was this nice, big vulture... said he'd really love to meet you."  
     Lisa cringed; Delilah grinned toothily and put her trunk up. She liked her friends and all, but damn if they weren't easy to freak out. Especially where birds were involved.  
     "So, where's the mutt?" asked Mandy, chewing on a wad of gum. Mandy highly disliked dogs, and had barely tolerated Ryo's presence.  
     "Staying with Sirius for the term," replied Delilah, her smile fading a little. She missed her little dog... but it was better this way, she knew.  
     "Ah, yes, Sirius... were you terribly frightened to be staying with him?" asked Lavender.  
     "Why would I be?" asked Delilah, bristling a little. "Sirius wouldn't harm a fly."  
     "Still, he _does_ have a sort of mysterious, dangerous air about him... kinda sexy," giggled Parvati. It took a supreme act of will for Delilah not to roll her eyes at the other Patil, then maybe slap her soundly.  
     Before Delilah could change the subject discreetly, Lisa said, "Wonder if she's seen him in his knickers?"  
     This sent everyone but Delilah into giggles. "That's a good question," said Mandy. "Have you?"  
     "I lived with the man for a month, Mandy," sighed Delilah. "So, yes, I did, but I wasn't exactly poking around, trying to catch him prancing around the cottage half-naked."  
     "Well?" said Padma.  
     "Well what?"  
     "How did he look?"  
     "Please. He's, like, an uncle or something. I'm not the world's authority on how hot Sirius Black is," replied Delilah.  
     Parvati leaned forward. "All right... view him, in your mind, as if you were me. Is he hot?"  
     Delilah scratched her chin thoughtfully. "Let's see... he's not missing limbs... he's clean... is that all of your criteria, or does he have to be breathing too?"  
     Parvati groaned in exasperation. "Come on... just answer the question, Riddle. Stop dancing around it."  
     "I don't dance," said Delilah primly. "At all. And I'm not telling you. You'll just have to jump him yourself and... rip off his clothes or something." The thought made her blush. She hid it by looking down to examine her shirt and make sure it "wasn't mussed".  
     Lavender, Parvati, Mandy, and Lisa all looked terribly disappointed. "There, there, girls... there's always the new language teacher," said Padma. "Have you guys seen him?"  
     Delilah shot Padma a grateful look--which quickly changed to one of irritation at her best friend's next comment. "Delilah knows him, and has already staked claim."  
     "I have not!" exclaimed Delilah.  
     "You know him?" gasped Parvati. "You lucky thing!"  
     "Not _that_ well," demurred Delilah. "I just went shopping with him one day, in Diagon Alley. Besides, he's a teacher, I'm a student. In everyone's eyes, I might as well date... Flitwick or something."  
     "I don't know... he's kind of short," mused Lisa.  
     Delilah's eyes widened. "Lisa! How would you know... that's disgusting!"  
     "Oh, calm down, Feather Girl," said Lisa with a grin. "I don't need _that_ many extra points in Charms."  
     "Not to mention you'd throw your back out trying to snog him," muttered Mandy. This sent the five girls into another fit of giggles. Delilah got the feeling her fellow Hogwarts females had become a little dirtier over the summer.  
     After the laughter died, Lavender turned to Delilah and said, "All right, details."  
     "What?" Delilah was confused.  
     Lavender sighed. "Details about your date with the new prof, of course! By the way, what's his name?"  
     "Professor Levine," said Delilah firmly. "And if you're asking if we snogged, we didn't."  
     "Well, of course not... you're the girl next door that happens to sport a chastity belt," said Lisa.  
     "Shut it, Lisa," growled Padma at the girl. Turning to Delilah, she said, "Just... give us a play-by-play or something."  
     So Delilah did, starting with when she'd first met him in the Leaky Cauldron, then when he'd helped her with Lucius Malfoy, and ending with the ice cream in Florean's. "I think he fancies you," said Parvati when Delilah was done.  
     Delilah snorted. "If only!" She paused, then said, "I want you all to promise, on your deathbeds, that you won't talk about this to anyone. Not only would it be slightly embarrassing, but it could get him into serious trouble." She looked at them pleadingly. "Please."  
     The other five exchanged looks. "We promise," said Parvati, speaking for them all.  
     "Thanks," said Delilah, mentally sighing with relief. She knew that, while they may be a little flighty and gossipy, once they gave their word, they'd keep it. It was a point of pride.  
     Suddenly, Delilah cried out. It felt as if someone was hitting her. "Lila, what's wrong?" asked Padma concernedly.  
     Controlling the flash of pain, Delilah centered her thoughts. "Someone's hurting a winged animal around here somewhere," she gasped, gritting her teeth. "And if you'll excuse me, I'm going to find out who--though I've an excellent idea." Taking out her wand, Delilah exited the compartment, walking toward the source of pain. This was the first time this had happened... why? She aimed to find out... after she zapped a certain Slytherin girl.  
  


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**Chapter Twelve  
Silver Eggs and Slytherins**

_"It is better that ten guilty escape than one innocent suffer." William Blackstone_

     Not even bothering to knock, Delilah flung open the door of the compartment. Sitting in a circle, hitting something in the center with flashes of light, were Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, and Lucinda Nott, three Slytherin sixth-years.  
     "Well, look here... it's the Bird-Girl," sneered Pansy.  
     "I'm in no mood to banter with you," growled Delilah. "Let it go, or else I swear on Merlin's beard, I'll get every professor in the world in here to see this."  
     Lucinda's voice was mocking. "You think they'll believe _you_? The little Wingspeaker?"  
     Delilah didn't even reply to the girl. Instead, she focused her energy on the... thing the three girls had been torturing. _Little one, what is your name and nature?_ she asked kindly.  
     Images came at her mind--those of a babe, struggling to get free. Looking closer at the object, Delilah saw that it was an egg of sorts. An oval, silver egg. They'd been trying to kill whatever was inside the egg, as was evidenced by scorch marks.  
     With a summoning spell, Delilah brought the egg into her arms. Jaw tight with anger, she exited the room, ignoring the girls's protests. They could go boil their heads.  
     She walked through the compartments, going back to the one she was in. "Hey, Riddle--" started Malfoy with a sneer.  
     Delilah gave him the same suggestion Harry had given her earlier that involved broomstick creativity and perversion. She never stopped, elbowing through the doors, holding the egg close to her. As she walked, she used her healing power to mend all she could. She made sure to hold her black opal under her shirt, although she didn't think her baby... whatever had too many deep, secret memories. She did, however, make sure to leave the scorch marks on the shell, as the three Slytherins would be sure to raise a fuss.  
     The pain Delilah had felt was replaced by a warm content. Somehow, Delilah knew whatever was inside the egg was happy. That brought her to another thought... what _was_ in there? Delilah looked for the creature's essence. That of birds was mostly brown, though some were red, blonde, or black. Butterflies were rainbow...  
     What she saw made her cry out in shock and the fifth-years in her compartment give her an odd look. This creature was... different. It was a mixture of black and copper, with strands of silver and gold here and there. Smiling apologetically at the students, she burst into her compartment.  
     "What in the..?" said Padma. That seemed to be the group statement.  
     "It's an egg of some sort... an egg containing something very, very weird," said Delilah. "Pansy, Millicent, and Lucinda were singeing it with light spells... seemed to think it was amusing."  
     The expression of distaste was shared in the group. There was no love lost between them and those particular Slytherins. Delilah felt that some of the Slytherins were actually decent, but she shoved that from her mind as she told the story of what had happened--including her comment to Draco.  
     "You... you said... _that_... to _Draco Malfoy_?" exclaimed Mandy.  
     Delilah looked pensive. "Well, I might have told him to make it salsa-dance while it was at it, but yes, that's the gist. Why are you so affronted?"  
     "Hello!" said Lisa. "Draco Malfoy... rich, talented, hot... are we ringing any bells?"  
     "Rude, crass, cowardly, spoiled... how about those bells?" retorted Delilah. "And don't even tell me about giving the prat a chance. I did. I was so nice to him in Herbology that it hurt my teeth. And how did he repay me?" She looked at them expectantly.  
     "He poured Insta-Sprouter on you and you were growing alfalfa sprouts all over your body for a week," sighed Mandy. "But maybe he was having a bad day!"  
     "Lesson one in anatomy for this term, Mandy: Men don't get PMS." They all looked at each other... then promptly cracked up.  
     "Can you imagine Malfoy buying feminine products?" gasped Parvati.  
     Padma went into a dead-on imitation, standing and shuffling, looking down. "Uh, yes, two boxes of, er, those thingies..." This sent the girls into another bout of laughter.  
     "Well, I'm glad you girls find _something_ amusing," came a cold voice from the door. The six girls abruptly stopped. Professor Snape tended to have that effect on people. "Miss Riddle, I just received a report from Misses Parkinson, Bulstrode, and Nott about an egg you stole from them?" Delilah kept silent, until she knew Snape was done. "Perhaps you could tell your version, out here in the doorway."  
     Nodding, Delilah stood. Noticing her friends looked concerned, she mouthed three letters that sent them into concealed snorts of laughter. As soon as Snape shut the door behind them, the laughter became full-flown.  
     "They do that whenever I leave the room," said Delilah carelessly. "In fact--"  
     "I'm waiting, Miss Riddle." Snape's tone meant business. Sighing, Delilah told the story, from the pang of pain to bringing the egg back with her.  
     Snape stroked his goatee. "I see. And why should I believe you over them? Couldn't you have made the scorch marks just as easily, with your own wand?"  
     Delilah practically turned purple with anger. "I would never," she growled. "I'd sooner shoot myself in the foot with a jet of fire. Besides, you could easily do _Prior Incantato_ on all four of us, to see who was recently shooting fire at eggs." She opened her mouth to say more, but Snape shushed her.  
     "Which I did as soon as I heard them finish. Needless to say, Miss Parkinson has lost possession of the egg, and the three of them warned never to do something as such again." Did those cold black eyes of his just flash with... a Dumbledore-esque twinkle? "Now, there is another matter. Young Mr. Malfoy says you said something quite rude to him, involving a broomstick and a certain part of his anatomy. Do you deny it?"  
     "No," said Delilah immediately. "All truth told, I enjoyed it immensely. And, sir, while I serve my detention, if I'm grinning wildly, it will be for that very reason."  
     "Very well, Miss Riddle; detention next Monday night, in my office," said Snape. Delilah nodded and turned to go. "Oh, and Miss Riddle?" She glanced at him. "I'm not sure if your suggestion would be anatomically possible... but it might be interesting to see attempted."  
     "Oh, I don't know... a Flexibility Tonic could work wonders," grinned Delilah. "See you in class." She went back inside the compartment. Her friends looked surprised to see her alive.  
     "Well?" prompted Padma.  
     Delilah sighed. "A detention, next Friday night. I do believe I just got the first detention of the year."  
     "A detention? That's _it_? One detention?"  
     "Delilah shrugged. "He did a _Prior Incantato_, and it showed they'd done something. Apparently, my story confirmed it. They got a verbal warning. Anyway, that's not what I got the detention for. It was for what I said to Malfoy."  
     "Oh." Padma sat back. "Well, still, I'd think Snape would punish you harder... even if you _are_ excellent in Potions."  
     Delilah could feel her ears turn red at the praise. "Maybe he won the lottery or something," she suggested. Her train of thought was promptly derailed by the sound of wheels on floor. "The tea cart's coming!"  
     Any other comments on Delilah's light punishment were quickly immersed in pumpkin juice and Cauldron Cakes, and quickly forgotten. As Delilah ate a rum-flavored bean, she stroked her egg, which seemed to thrum with life. "Hope not all of my days this year are so exciting," she murmured, to herself and her new, not-yet-born charge. "I'd get an arrythmia." The six girls talked until they reached Hogwarts.  
  


||[back to top][5]||

_     "Flexibility Tonic"... *snorts* Oh, right. This is where I put the cryptic little message or whatever. *clears throat* In the next part, we find out what's inside Delilah's lovely new... egg. I shall endeavour to make more chaos... wait, too much already! *laughs; crickets chirp* Oh. Well. Um. Review? ~Phoenix_

* * *

   [1]: #chapter9
   [2]: #chapter10
   [3]: #chapter11
   [4]: #chapter12
   [5]: #top



	4. Part 4: Chapters 13-16

Lilacs In November--Part Four  
  
**DISCLAIMER: I swear to GOD, I didn't do it. It was all JK... well, everything except for Delilah, Brett, her family, possessions, and the egg-thingie. Ooh yes, and the broomstick bit last part.**

||[chapter thirteen][1]||[chapter fourteen][2]||[chapter fifteen][3]||[chapter sixteen][4]||  
  
  
  
**Chapter Thirteen  
**Not Enough

_"It's always too early to quit." Norman Vincent Peale_

     The six girls piled inside one carriage, Delilah and Lisa each squished in the middle on each side, made for an interesting trip. Between threats of one girl throwing another into the lake/cage of Hagrid's latest animals/room with Peeves inside, and Delilah and Padma bursting into song with "99 Bottles of Butterbeer on the Wall", it was safe to say the others gave them a wide berth. Sadly, the two girls only got to bottle 91 when the ride was over. When they got out, the stares they got were a mix of fascination and disgust. "We don't know you," said Parvati to Padma and Delilah, speaking for the other three and herself.  
     "So we'll talk to you in public?" grinned Delilah. She reflected that she must be starving and therefore dizzy... but that didn't matter.  
     Parvati made a noise of outrage and stalked off. Grinning, Delilah and Padma went inside the castle.  
     "Ah, home sweet home," said Delilah, flinging her arms wide to encompass Hogwarts. "How I have missed thee, mine learning center."  
     "Must be one for the mentally ill, if you're here," joked Padma. Sticking her tongue at her best friend as they entered the Great Hall, Delilah slid into the seat that Mandy had saved for her. Padma sat down also, just as the Sorting ceremony began.  
     Blanking out the Sorting song as best as she could, Delilah looked at the row of first years. They all looked either scared, queasy, or smug. She had suspicions of what house some would be in... others she had no idea.  
     Looking at the teachers' table, she saw some familiar faces... Figg, Snape, Sprout... and Brett. He was staring at the Ravenclaw table, as if someone had placed the Holy Grail on it. Delilah thought, for one wild instant, that he was looking at her... then she followed his gaze to Cho. Of course. Cho was pretty, popular, and Head Girl. She, Delilah, was none of those. Biting her lip, Delilah turned away to catch the last chords of the song.  
     While she cheered for the new Ravenclaws, Delilah felt a new, tugging presence on her mind--like a child pulling on its mother's skirts. Brushing it away, she clapped loudly as Delaney Davenport became a Ravenclaw. The tugging became more insistent... then Delilah almost fell out of her chair with the sheer mental impact. Ignoring any weird looks she got, Delilah crept into the barely opened kitchen door.  
     "Mistress Delilah! What is you doing here?" It was Dobby, the house elf Harry had introduced her to last year. She liked him... he was an individual.  
     "Sneaking to my tower," she said matter-of-factly. "Do you know the closest exit to Ravenclaw tower?"  
     Dobby pointed a gnarled brown finger toward a far door. Thanking him, Delilah dashed to the door and flung it open. Halfway down the hall, she realized she didn't know the new password. Cursing, she ducked into a bathroom and quickly changed into a golden eagle. Clutching her clothes and robes in her beak, she went out the nearest window and around the castle to the tower window.  
     The window was locked. Muttering another oath, Delilah went to a nearby tree and changed back. Getting her wand from her robes, she blurted out, "Alohomora!" The window opened. Flinging her things inside, she changed into a falcon and zipped inside. Something was happening... and she had a good idea what.  
     She was in the sixth-year's dorm, where she'd be living this year. And her things weren't in there yet. Growling, Delilah put her clothes back on and paced the room, waiting.  
     There was one more extremely shocked house elf that night, as Delilah snatched her trunk out of his hands and flung it open. The egg inside was glowing, and tiny cracks were appearing in the shell. Squeaking in fright, the house elf dashed out of the room. Delilah watched it go, then turned her attention to the egg. Tentatively, not knowing what she was supposed to do, Delilah placed her hands on the shell.  
     The mental tugging quieted and calmed. Looking around confusedly, as if seeking help, Delilah saw a peregrine falcon watching her amusedly. _They're going to notice you're gone,_ said Flightwing.  
     "I know," sighed Delilah. Fishing parchment and ink from her trunk, she readied a quill pen for scribbling a note to Dumbledore. But what could she say? "Hello Professor, I skipped the feast because my egg is hatching"? Biting her lip, she looked at the egg, which was trembling. She had no expertise in this... but she knew who did. Jotting a note, she folded it and held it out to the falcon. "Take this to Hagrid, will you?" she said pleadingly. "I'll be needing his help."  
     Hopping forward, Flightwing took the note, then zipped out of the window and to the Great Hall. That done, Delilah's attention turned to the egg. Wrapping it in a towel from the bathroom, she hugged it to her chest and ran down to Hagrid's hut.  
     Ten minutes later, the door swung open and Hagrid came in. "Got yer note," he said, panting. "Wha' is it?"  
     Delilah pointed to the egg, which was almost bouncing up and down by now. His eyes widened. "Blimey... tha's th' egg of a winged unicorn. Very rare," he said. "In fact..." At Delilah's urgent stare, he shut up. "Oh. Right. Wha' we gotta do is..."  
     With the help of Delilah's magic and Hagrid's instructing, they were able to soothe the foal inside and help it. Delilah's face was grim. "He's weak. He... he might not be able to..." Her voice broke.  
     "Now, now, lass... no talk like that. Ye've helped the lil feller more than anyone else could," said Hagrid comfortingly. "Jus'... jus' keep doin' the same, and he'll be fine, you'll see."  
     At last, the egg was opened. A small, sticky, tiny little horse was revealed, his coat pitch black. Looking at them both with wide copper eyes, he stood... swayed... and fell down. The eyes closed.  
     Delilah howled in pain. Her magical self dove for the baby's own falling self... then was held and anchored by ropes of brightest blue. She strained against them; but they were reinforced with something stronger than steel. Slumping over, her actual eyes opened. Turning, she saw Dumbledore, wand in hand. "So it was you," she muttered thickly before falling into a faint.  
     Hagrid picked up the unconscious girl. "Poor dear," he said sadly. "She did all she could--and more."  
     Dumbledore pocketed his wand, blue eyes grave. "I know. But sometimes... all we can do just isn't enough." He wrapped the tiny body in the towel. "Take her to Madam Pomfrey. She needs food and rest. I'll bury the young one." Head bowed, Hagrid left, Delilah sprawled in his arms. Shaking his own head sadly, Dumbledore exited the hut also.

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**Chapter Fourteen  
**Unleash the Dragon

_"I never let schooling interfere with my education." Mark Twain_

     Delilah's eyes flew open and she sat up. _The unicorn!_ All too soon, she remembered what had happened... and realized she was in the infirmary. If she'd just tried harder, that little baby might be here next to her... she sobbed, knees to chest, head down.  
     Madam Pomfrey let her cry, standing by with a healing tonic for when her cries subsided. Delilah drank the tonic, feeling half dead.  
     "Which you are," said a voice near her. Surprised, Delilah looked up to see none other than Brett.  
     "How did you know..?"  
     "ESP," he grinned. His tone changed when he saw her tear-stained cheeks. "You OK?" he asked concernedly.  
     "Peachy," she said with a yawn. "The world always looks better when you're drugged."  
     "That's nice to know," he snorted. "There's an hour until classes start, and half an hour until breakfast. You going to either?"  
     "As John Cougar said, 'life goes on'," sighed Delilah. "Besides, that tonic of Madam Pomfrey's is helping. Might as well."  
     "Delilah." Something in his voice made her look at him. "What you did... you have no reason to regret anything. You did more than anyone else could have." Blue-violet eyes held nothing but compassion for her.  
     "But it wasn't enough," she said quietly. "Now get to your classroom; I need to get a shower." Someone had brought her a fresh set of robes and clothes--probably Padma. They'd also brought her books.  
     Giving her one last smile, Brett left. Getting ready took her about twenty minutes; a five-minute check by Madam Pomfrey, and Delilah was on her way to the Great Hall for breakfast.  
     Blindly, Delilah went to a seat at the Ravenclaw table. She wasn't really hungry... but she knew she needed to eat, so she put jam on a slice of toast.  
     "Well, if it isn't Miss Rescue Mission," Delilah heard Pansy's voice cut through the din of people. "What good is a weird power if you can't use it right?"  
     Delilah kept a stony face, knowing they were trying to provoke her. Tears glittered in her eyes; how could people be so cruel? It was most likely Pansy's fault that the foal had died; and she was _laughing_ about it? Turning away from the Slytherins, she looked at her own table to see some people looking at her oddly. Others didn't do anything; just went on as normal. _I should start charging admission if they're going to act like I'm a freak,_ she thought sourly, pushing her eggs around on her plate listlessly.  
     Peeking back at the Gryffindors, she saw Hermione and Ron wave at her sympathetically. Giving them a half-smile, she looked at Harry. He was looking at Cho mooningly... and Cho was making major eye contact with Brett, and both were about drooling in their breakfasts. Were Delilah not so thoroughly depressed, she would have felt outrage that her best male friend's girlfriend was checking out another guy--a guy she liked. As it was, she had the sudden urge to laugh maniacally.  
     She didn't remember taking her schedule; she just knew she was looking at it. Oh, no. Her first class was Care of Magical Creatures. She couldn't face that now... but she knew she had to. Heaving a gusty sigh, she stuck the schedule in her bag and stood to go. With any luck, the creature they'd work with today would be hideous and nonpitiful. Or they'd be doing bookwork.  
     Luck didn't hold out. Looking guiltily at Delilah, Hagrid unveiled their first project: a mixed assortment of baby magical creatures for each student to pick from and study. "They migh' not turn out as they look now," warned Hagrid, "so choose carefully." Every last one was perfectly adorable--except for a few that looked like slimy substances or warped piles of scales. Delilah chose that one, a black lump shot with silver. This wouldn't remind her of the foal... then she saw the magical color of black, copper, gold, and silver, and bit her lip. All the others were like this, she told herself, picking up her new creature. At least it wasn't furred.  
     "Ah... I see ye've chosen yours," said Hagrid, coming over. "Barely got 'way with puttin' that one in there... he's a special variety of his kin', though, so they let me." He cleared his throat. "All th' other girls got cute fuzzy things."  
     "I think we know why I didn't," said Delilah blankly, nudging her scale lump. She let out a cry of shock as a tiny head emerged to snap at her. "That wasn't funny, mister." She could've sworn he blew her a raspberry before the little head tucked back inside.  
     Delilah inspected the scales... the tiny, furled wings... the crested head and spiked tail... and stared at Hagrid. "Are you mad?" she hissed. "He's only a baby, but still!"  
     Hagrid shrugged. "They said I could, an' he's harmless." Delilah snorted, remembering how he'd snapped at her. Hagrid walked off, then paused and turned back to her. "I'm glad ye got 'im. Ye'll unnerstan' him better than some o' th' others would. Well, 'cept for one other... but I dun' like to admit that."  
     Ignoring his last words, Delilah stared at the slumbering baby dragon. "Why does everything have to have wings?" she muttered to herself, getting out parchment for writing notes on her new "project". At least he didn't need her as desperately as... the other. A tiny smile crossed her face. If his reaction meant anything, he didn't need her at all.  
     "You're looking better," began Padma, then she stopped and stared at Delilah's chosen creature. "My God, that's ugly."  
     "No... it's a variety of dragon," said Delilah matter-of-factly. "I'll have to go to the library and find out what kind they'd let in Hogwarts."  
     "Do you know who's really good with dragons, I've heard?" said Padma.  
     "Who?"  
     "Draco Malfoy. Go figure, huh?"  
     Delilah made a sour face. "How would you know? For that matter, how would _he_ know?"  
     "His uncle raises them or something like that. Mandy told me."  
     "She fancies him, I take it?"  
     Padma grinned. "And she has yet to talk to him."  
     Snorting, Delilah wiped her quill clean. "I'll be sure to ask Malfoy for help with my dragon," she said sarcastically. "He'd probably hex me first."  
     "Maybe the alfalfa was an accident," said Padma. Delilah caught the dreaminess in her tone and her jaw dropped.  
     "Padma Patil! You're... you're _defending_ Malfoy?"  
     "Well, he _is_ cute. He's a git, but cute," said Padma defensively. Delilah just rolled her eyes.

||[back to top][5]||  
  
  
  
**Chapter Fifteen  
**Harsh Words

_"He who angers you conquers you." Elizabeth Kenny_

     Delilah saw Draco walking over to their area of the grounds lazily--he must have the class next. Crabbe and Goyle flanked him, as always. "If his goons would move out of the way, I might be able to tell if he's cute or not," she said sarcastically.  
     While Crabbe and Goyle stood at the edge of the field and sniggered over some private joke, Draco sauntered over. Delilah instinctively blocked the dragon from his view. "Hello Padma, Riddle," he said offhandedly. "How's life, for the birds?"  
     "Gosh, Draco, you're witty. Did you think that up yourself, or did Einstein and Newton over there pitch in?" said Delilah bitingly. She could forget her grief in the presence of a prat like Malfoy.  
     "What's that?" He peered over her shoulder. He'd gotten taller over the summer, and now topped her by almost a head, which irritated her to no end.  
     Delilah shielded it with her hands. "_My_ project," she said with emphasis.  
     His silver eyes were wide. "It's a dragon, isn't it? Hagrid's going to get canned for this one."  
     "Ah, but he's not," said Delilah sweetly. "He's already cleared it. Besides, it can't attack you with its beak... it's not big enough yet. You'll need another excuse to stink at Quidditch."  
     "Lila, we're going to be late," said Padma, tugging her arm. Delilah took her arm out of her friend's grasp, eyes locked with Draco's. His face had darkened with her comment, eyes burning.  
     Taking a sick pleasure out of verbally lashing him, Delilah kept going. "And what's more, he's not in an egg, so you can't shoot fire at him and kill him. Or wait... is that your girlfriend's forté only?" Turning her back on him, she picked up the dragon and carried him over to Hagrid to be put in a snug little cage until lunch. Glaring at a furious Draco, she picked up her bag and headed for History of Magic.

     While Binns droned on, Delilah had ample time to reflect on her actions. Damn, but it had felt good to tell him off... when it was happening. Now she felt like... like she'd sunk to his level. The egg thing hadn't been his fault, but she'd blamed him anyway. And the interest in his eyes when he'd seen her dragon had been real... he obviously cared for the creatures. There was no way around it... she'd have to apologize. And if there was one thing Delilah Anne Riddle hated, it was apologies.  
     After History of Magic was lunch. Delilah ate hers quickly, looking around for Draco. He was nowhere to be seen--but Delilah had a good idea of where he was. Getting up and making her excuses to her friends, she took her gloves from her pocket and went to where the baby animals were being held.  
     To her shock, Malfoy wasn't there. Suspicious, Delilah checked her cage. The dragon was still in there... good thing, or Malfoy would've had a new eye color. Black. Looking at the instructions she'd posted on the dragon's cage, she went to the food bins and mixed together some dragon's milk (not too much, for the baby was getting weaned), sulfur, and brimstone. The mixture was a cloudy yellow-red-black that looked positively disgusting. "Chow down, little guy," she muttered as she poured the mixture into his little trough.  
     _You aren't as good as the other one_, muttered the dragon as he--no, _she_, got up and waddled over to the trough. _He's a lot better around dragons--even knew where to scratch me._  
     _Oh? And when did he come by?_ asked Delilah nonchalantly.  
     _Oh, he's still here... but I'm not telling you where._ The dragon crunched on a chunk of brimstone. _You didn't grind this enough._  
     "Hush. At least you're getting fed." Still, she pulled out her quill and made a note on the sheet. "Happy now?"  
     _No. I also want more milk, and less sulfur. And some butter, to thicken it. Where'd you get the recipe for this, anyway?_  
     "However did I manage to get the whiny one?" sighed Delilah. "I should've gotten one of those balls of fluff. Or a phoenix. Yeah, a phoenix would've been nice."  
     The dragonet finished its food and blew a raspberry at her. Curling up, it went back to sleep.  
     "Good Lord, Riddle... is that how you treat all of your little winged friends?" came Draco's drawl from behind her. "If so, I pity them."  
     "Oh, only the ones that act like yourself, Malfoy," she said sweetly. "No wonder you two get along... misery _loves_ company."  
     Draco chuckled. "Aren't _we_ the witty one?"  
     "Better than being the conspirator that never got caught," she retorted. "How can you even walk the halls, knowing what you did last year to try and destroy them?"  
     Draco grabbed her arm, so tightly it hurt. "Don't you _dare_ judge me," he hissed. "You have no clue what it's like to live my life. So sod off."  
     Delilah wrenched her arm from his grip. "After you... _Malfoy_," she snapped. She'd walked halfway back to the castle before she turned back around to look at him. "Hey Draco!" she yelled.  
     He looked over at her. "As soon as you get a backbone, you might want to come back to the castle. Lord knows you won't want to miss Divination. Maybe Trelawney will help you see why your family can bow down to other people and revile servants at the _same time_!" All thoughts of apologies gone from her head, Delilah walked back to the castle, waiting for a curse to hit her. It never came.

||[back to top][5]||  
  
  
  
**Chapter Sixteen  
**Impromptu Visit

_"R-E-S-P-E-C-T, find out what it means to me..." Aretha Franklin_

     Delilah tried to do homework. She got done quickly. She tried to work ahead, but only ended up flinging her quill to the ground in disgust. She only had one option, as she saw it... one thing to do. She opened the window.  
     Fifteen minutes later, she was outside of Sirius's cottage. She flew for a window--but veered off at the last second when she realized it was shut. Circling back around, she used her beak to tentatively tap on the glass.  
     Nothing. She peered inside--Sirius was laying on the couch nearby, sound asleep. She tapped again... he stirred, but rolled back over and put a blanket over his head.  
     _All right... you asked for it._ Checking around, she shifted from raven form to her human form, dressed in Muggle clothes. Pulling out the lockpicks that had been in her package from him (along with a ring that adorned her finger at the moment) she opened the window. Shifting into parrot form, she flew in.  
     Positioning herself out of range of his fists, she cleared her throat. "What you want, baby I got it... what you need, you know I got it..." she started to sing in her funny parrot voice, doing a can-can.  
     Sirius's eyes flew open and fell on her. "I never should've told you that story," he muttered, reaching for his pants.  
     In a few seconds, Delilah had shifted again. "How else was I supposed to learn drinking in moderation?" she said cheekily. "I learn from your mistakes, oh wise one."  
     "Turn around and let me get dressed," said Sirius with a yawn. "Your mutt's in your old bedroom. He's been pining."  
     A faint blush staining her cheeks, Delilah went down the halls to where her old room had been. As soon as she opened the door, her little dog sprung out at her and started frantically yipping. Cooing at him, she picked Ryo up and let him bathe her face. "Have you been peeing in Uncle Sirius's slippers? _Every morning_? Such a good boy! Mommy's so proud..." She said it loud enough for Sirius to hear.  
     "Ha ha," he said behind her. She turned around and looked up at him. Even though she'd grown, she was nowhere near his height.  
     "Seriously--no pun intended--has he been good?"  
     "Well... he's not the kind of dog that you can drink beer with and watch rugby on the telly, but he's survivable," grinned Sirius, running a hand through his long black hair. Delilah shook her head.  
     "You need to get that cut. Didn't you say you would at beginning of term?"  
     "I lied."  
     "You look like a Black Sabbath wannabe spawned from the genes of Ozzy Osbourne and Satan--well, their hair genetics, anyway." Delilah frowned. "As if everyone needs more evidence that you're insane."  
     "Delilah, I've had my hair like this since Hogwarts. It's tradition."  
     Delilah snorted. "Since _Hogwarts_? That was about twenty-five years ago, for you. Isn't it time for a change?" She situated Ryo so that he only took up one of her arms.  
     "Blah, blah, et cetera, et cetera. Tea?" He led her into the kitchen, where she sat down, her dog in her lap. She accepted, and waited for him to return with the two steaming cups. "This living alone is making me domestic."  
     "Probably poisoning you, since you have to eat your own cooking." She looked over at the sink, which was full of dirty dishes. "Sign of the bachelor."  
     "How've you been, kid?" asked Sirius, smiling at her.  
     "Well... um... not so good," she confessed.  
     "Why?"  
     "It all started with the train ride..." She told him the entire story of the egg, which led to the Care of Magical Creatures project, then to Draco. "He's so _irritating_!" she fumed. "I can't believe Dumbledore even let him back... it had to have been Fudge or someone idiotic like that. Every time I talk to him, I have to restrain the urge to throttle his little albino neck."  
     "Maybe he's got reasons," said Sirius gently.  
     "Like..?"  
     "I for one wouldn't like having Lucius Malfoy for a father."  
     "Wondrous. He can spend the hols with my family then. I'm sure they'd get along _smashingly_." Sarcasm dripped from her last word.  
     "Just... don't judge him until you've walked in his shoes. All right, Delilah?" Sirius smiled warmly at her. "You'd better go. Your friends will be getting worried."  
     "They're too busy mooning over the slimy git," she muttered. "What do they see in him?"  
     "Don't ask me... I'm the crotchety old man," said Sirius. Delilah hid a snort. Sirius still had a youthful air about him, even though it had been dampened by Azkaban. And he was still funny as hell.  
     "Then why do my dormmates want a snapshot of you in your knickers?" she said with a grin. "Or without... they aren't picky girls."  
     Sirius chuckled. "Tell them to put their wands behind the big copper trophy in the trophy room, tap the trophy three times, and say 'Lunus Veritas'."  
     "What happens?"  
     Sirius grinned. "Well, if the spell survived, an image of all four Marauders mooning the crowd at a Slytherin Quidditch game should show up." As an afterthought, he added, "I'll have to modify that so that Peter gets assaulted by Bludgers. Didn't happen, but still highly amusing." His eyes darkened even more than normal.  
     Delilah squeezed his hand. There really wasn't anything to say when he thought of Peter, James, or Lily... he was going to cry and/or yell anyway. "I'll be going back now... and I'll remember that spell. I'll show Harry that one... a side of his father he never got to see." That made Sirius smile at least a little bit. "G'bye, Sirius."  
     "G'bye." Delilah changed into her falcon form again and sped back to the school.

||[back to top][5]||  
  
  
  
_     Well... that was interesting. Sorry again about the delay... second semester's hell, and I'm sure I'm failing math by now. Yeah. School sucks. ~Phoenix Starfire (I like the new name... don't you? *wink nudge*)_

   [1]: #chapter13
   [2]: #chapter14
   [3]: #chapter15
   [4]: #chapter16
   [5]: #top



	5. Part 5: Chapters 17-20

Lilacs In November--Part Five  
  
**DISCLAIMER: *sings* But she caught me on the counter... (it wasn't me) *stops, blushes* Whoops. Well, um, yeah, that covers it, right? Heh heh. On with the story.**

||[chapter seventeen][1]||[chapter eighteen][2]||[chapter nineteen][3]||[chapter twenty][4]||  
  
  
  
**Chapter Seventeen  
**Heart to Heart

_"When I find myself fading, I close my eyes and realize my friends are my energy." Anonymous_

     "Miss Riddle?" With a mental squeak of terror, Delilah sped up and flew into the room, crash-landing on the bed.  
     "In a second, Professor Flitwick," she called frantically, forming vocal cords first as she changed back.  
     "Are you all right?"  
     "A... a little sleepy..." She looked around for her robes--they'd been moved. With a groan, she opened her trunk (which she hadn't unpacked yet) and dug out her pajamas.  
     "Were you in bed, then? Miss Brocklehurst was looking for you a few minutes ago--she said she couldn't find you. She's quite worried. May I come in?"  
     "Er... sure, professor, one second." Pulling on her T-shirt hurriedly, she dove into bed. She hadn't closed the curtains before she'd left... something she'd told herself she was going to do, to make people think she was asleep.  
     The short professor came in. "I see you're in bed already. Have you done your homework?"  
     Delilah gestured to her desk, where a stack of parchment awaited the next day. Flitwick beamed. "Excellent. Now, what was I going to ask you? ...Oh, yes, now I remember. Do you know anything of Dungbombs under the bed of one Draco Malfoy?"  
     So, Harry had used those for some good after all. She kept her face perfectly smooth. "No, sir--what happened?"  
     "Don't call me sir, Miss Riddle--I'm not Sir Cadogan. Yes. Well, apparently they just went off. He seemed to think you were involved."  
     "I've been in here, doing homework and sleeping," she said. "It's been a tiring day, Professor... I don't have the energy to use Dungbombs on anyone, least of all the energy needed to find the Slytherin dormitories." She let out a tiny yawn. "If you're done, Professor, could I get back to bed, please?" She snuggled into her blankets and promptly fell asleep.  
     Getting the distinct impression that he'd been dismissed, Flitwick opened his mouth to speak indignantly. A bird of some sort--with wicked talons, he noted with a shiver--chose that time to perch on the windowsill and eye him evilly. _Go on, just try it,_ the bird seemed to say to him.  
     Closing his mouth and shaking his head, Flitwick said, "Very well, then... ah... right. Good night." The short-statured professor then proceeded to go down the stairs at the fastest pace dignity would allow.

     "Psst! Lila!"  
     That was definitely not a female voice. With a gasp, Delilah sat up, to see Harry removing his invisibility cloak.  
     "What in the HELL are you doing here?!" she hissed, pulling her blankets up to her chin.  
     "Shh! Keep it down. I need your help."  
     "With what?!"  
     "You know that professor friend of yours? What's his name... Professor Levine?"  
     Delilah started to get a sinking feeling in her stomach. "Yeah... what about him?"  
     "I..." Harry bit his lip. "I want you to find out if he and Cho are... you know."  
     "I see. And why must I do your dirty work?"  
     Harry folded his arms across his chest. "You can't tell me you wouldn't care if he was with someone other than you."  
     "Oh, and you don't care that your girlfriend is possibly interested in someone else?"  
     "Of course I care--why do you think I'm asking you to do this?"  
     "I don't know all of the answers!" Delilah saw Harry's eyes narrow, but decided she didn't care. Not only was the remembrance of Cho's and Brett's looks in the Great Hall thoroughly depressing her, she was reminded about her brief and unrequitted crush on Harry last year.  
     "So you're not even going to put up a fight, then? Just going to let him... saunter away with another girl? I thought you had more fight than that."  
     "Well, maybe I'm tired of fighting," she shot back. "I've been fighting about all of my life--and where the hell has it brought me? My family hates me because I'm a witch... about half of the magical community is scared witless of me... and I don't even see why I bother to even get romantic notions about people, I mean, the last one went to hell, and this one's going down that path. I've been here a few days and already I'm on the verge of a nervous breakdown."  
     There was silence; then Harry threw on the Invisibility Cloak and vanished. He'd left, she thought numbly, the feeling not quite registering... then an arm went around her shoulders and, half-covered by the cloak, she was pulled into a hug where she could finally cry, hot silent tears that soaked Harry's shirt.  
     "It's not easy, is it?" whispered Harry quietly. "Being well-known for something you didn't even accomplish on your own... and thanks to Rita Skeeter announcing that I'm a Parselmouth and about my scar, I've got people thinking I'm turning Dark. But Lila--_they don't matter_. You believed it once... start believing it again, and that will of yours that I know is there will come back, I'm sure of it. You're one of the strongest people I know, and the strongest girl, emotionally anyway. You can come back."  
     Sitting up, Delilah took Harry's offered handkerchief and cleaned herself up. "Thank you," she whispered. "I'll... I'll try to ask Brett about Cho, OK?"  
     "Only if you want to. I won't hold you to it. Seems like you're busy enough." Because she was still slightly under the cloak, she could see Harry check his watch. "Got to go to a Quidditch meeting out on the pitch--it doesn't start officially for another two weeks, but the remaining members wanted to meet to decide on captains and such. You going to be all right?"  
     "I... yeah, I think so. Maybe I'll fly out to see you act all sporty." She winked at him.  
     With a smile, Harry stood, becoming totally invisible. "Er... Lila?"  
     "Yes?"  
     "It's probably none of my business anyway... but, er, that romantic interest that went to hell, as you put it... who was it?"  
     "You--but you already know that, I suspect."  
     "I... I had a notion."  
     "Ah. Well, you'd best get to your meeting then. And if you're not made captain, tell me who is, so I can drop a load on their head in bird form."  
     "Lila! That's disgusting!"  
     "I learned from the best."  
     The grumblings of Harry slowly faded as the door opened and shut quietly, and he crept out of the common room. Closing her eyes, Delilah slept easily, for the first time since she'd been here, really--a sleep not of exhaustion, but of peace.

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**Chapter Eighteen  
**Translation

_"Knowledge is of two kinds. We know a subject ourselves, or we know where we can find information upon it." Samuel Johnson_

     At 7:00 sharp on Saturday night, Delilah headed for Professor Levine's office. Hidden in her bag, protected by cloth wrapping, was the diary. Stopping outside of his door, she knocked three times lightly, then sharply--the code they'd devised so that he'd know it was her.  
     A blond head peeked out of the door, along with brilliant blue-purple eyes. "Come on in," said Brett with a smile. She entered, and he shut the door, ushering her to a stool behind his desk next to his.  
     "All right... you've kept me in suspense all week. What is this fabulous thing you need me to help you with?"  
     "First, you have to promise you'll not tell a single soul. Not another teacher... any students... even Dumbledore. Don't tell _anyone_."  
     "All right, I promise." Sizing him up with her eyes, Delilah reached down into her bag and pulled out the book. Unwrapping it, she pushed it over to him.  
     "Oh my..." He looked up at her. "This is..."  
     "I need you to help me translate this," she stated. "It's in a strange code--about every page is in a different language, but once you speak it out loud, it becomes English. Go on... see what you can do."  
     He looked at her uncertainly; she gestured at the book. Finally, he turned to the first untranslated page, which looked like very crude childlike scratches. "This is troll--one I know the basics of, but probably not the more complex words. It's also a more dated form, which means that some definitions might have changed. But then again, it's troll... they're not the scholarly type, to go changing their language." Scanning one of the room's many bookshelves, his eyes fell on a certain book; picking up his wand from his desk, he said, "Accio Troll Dictionary!"  
     A leather-bound, grubby volume sailed over and into his hands. "You don't mind if I ask you to look up words, do you?" Brett asked her.  
     "Not at all."  
     "Excellent." Clearing his throat, he began a series of grunts that had to be the language, as the markings started to shift into Rowena's curling script. Every now and then Delilah flipped through the large tome in front of her to find the meaning of a certain symbol, along with the pronunciation.  
     The work went slowly. A lot of times, they came across symbols they couldn't find in the book; even the ones they could find took a long time to do so, due to the sheer number of symbols in the dictionary. The ones that they couldn't find, Delilah traced onto a piece of parchment; according to Brett, the Hogwarts library had older dictionaries that, due to the fact that they'd fall apart, couldn't be moved.  
     "Tell you what," said Brett finally, when it was near midnight and both of them were about dead with exhaustion. "You take this with you--after all, it's yours, and if it's in my room, some students might notice it. If you help me grade papers, we can work on this on the weekends, and for each week we can..."  
     "Each have a list of the older symbols to try and decipher, then figure it out next time?" suggested Delilah.  
     Brett snapped his fingers. "Excellent idea. Here--go ahead and rip the list you have in half. I'll take part, you take part, and we'll add whatever we work on tomorrow night. Then next Saturday, we'll compare notes. Sound good?"  
     "Peachy."  
     "Great!" He grinned at her, then confessed, "I don't think I've been this excited since... scratch that, I've never been this excited."  
     "Try not to wet yourself," she said with a sweet smile, rewrapping the book and nestling it inside of her bag. "Tomorrow night, same time?"  
     "We'll have to end a bit earlier--we've got school tomorrow," he said with a wink. "But yes, seven sounds good."  
     "All right then. G'night."  
     "Good night." Thanking the pure luck that Brett's classroom was so close to the Ravenclaw entrance, she crept up to it, whispered, "Eagle feather," and went to bed.

     The next night was a page of French--which was so easy for Brett, they got started on the next page, which was Mermish. As she looked up a bubble-and-seaweed-shaped symbol in a green book that smelled like the ocean, Delilah remembered Harry and her's conversation. "Er, Brett--"  
     "Maybe when she graduates and breaks up with her boyfriend. I don't rob cradles, or other guys. But yes, I do think she's hot." A knowing smile crossed his lips at her open-mouthed expression. "You were going to ask about Cho Chang, right?"  
     "How..?"  
     I told you--ESP. I see you've found that symbol..." And he continued as if nothing had happened.  
     Shaking her head in disbelief, Delilah inked up her quill. Under the guise of writing down another unidentified symbol, she scribbled at the bottom of her parchment roll, **Check _Magicmakers Other Than Wizards_--mind-reading? telepathic?**, then once it was dry, rolled the parchment back up.  
     "It's almost ten--we should close up shop," said Brett, closing the dictionary. "You have those symbols, correct?"  
     She handed him his list. "I just added them on to the bottom," she explained.  
     Brett sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I wish we could use a Translator spell on this," he sighed.  
     Delilah looked at him with interest. She had no idea spells like that even existed. "A Translator spell?"  
     "Forget it. Rowena Ravenclaw was an intellectual. She'd not make it that easy for someone to translate her diary--she'd make them work for it, or already have the knowledge."  
     "Well, it was a nice idea."  
     "That it was." He set the book on the cloth and let her wrap it up. "Next Saturday, then?"  
     "Sounds good." And she headed back to Ravenclaw tower, narrowly dodging Peeves as he swooped above her, cackling to himself.  
     When she entered the dorm, she found Padma waiting for her. "Where've you been?" she asked.  
     As much as she wanted to, Delilah couldn't tell Padma. She'd already told too many people as it was. "Levine's helping me translate these old books I found in Sirius's library," she lied, the story suddenly popping into her head. "They're in Mermish and troll... some history, some weird spells."  
     "Excuse to hang out with him?"  
     "Right in one."  
     Padma grinned. "I love it when you're devious."  
     "Isn't it grand?" said Delilah with a grin, thinking, _You have no idea_.

||[back to top][5]||  
  
  
  
**Chapter Nineteen  
**Things Falling Apart... And Into Perspective

_"Hard work spotlights the character of people: some turn up their sleeves, some turn up their noses, and some don't turn up at all." Sam Ewig _

     In the weeks that followed, Delilah literally didn't have the chance to look into the whole telepathic-wizard thing. She barely had time to breathe, really.  
     First were her classes. As it got closer to the holidays--where students would be leaving the safety of the school, and thus susceptible to the attacks of Voldemort and his Death Eaters, who were still at large but not mentioned at the school--the teachers all felt it necessary to (a) up the work load, and (b) teach the students defense charms. Figg had them creating magic shields to deflect minor spells and debris--and learning about how to destroy or defend against every manner of Dark creature, Flitwick was helping them on the path to Invisibility charms, and Snape, when he was in class and not off doing work for Dumbledore that Delilah didn't care to dwell on, helped them make Obscuring Tonics, which were quite handy. You poured them into a small ball, and when being attacked, threw the ball onto the ground. A thick, black, fog-like smoke filled the air, enabling you to find safety or help. Of course, these precautions probably wouldn't work too well against trained Dark wizards... but one never knew.  
     And the extra training didn't stop at the obvious. Trelawney set the students to work looking for who might be attacked soon, in order to prevent the attack from happening; nobody saw too much. Professor Binns had them research old uprisings and battles, and how they were resolved. Sprout taught them herbs that they could carry on themselves and mix with water and each other to help heal wounds. The only teachers who really couldn't do too much were Hagrid, the astrology professor Sinistra, and McGonagall. However, those teachers still kept them quite busy; McGonagall being the worst, venting her frustration at not being able to do anything in the way of defense to train them for graduation and the aftermath. This included learning spells so complicated that a flick to the left instead of the right would result in the desk becoming a large garden slug instead of the piglet it should have been. Delilah had done that three times before finally getting it--and only then when she realized that McGonagall was taking ten points off of Ravenclaw every time she screwed up. She was more careful after that.  
     In an effort to regain points and socialize with her friends, who were also busy, she attended every Ravenclaw Quidditch game. After learning from a blushing Harry that he was Quidditch captain, she also attended all of his games, too. It was a time-consumer that she didn't really mind--after all, the games were suspenseful, and fun, and helped her relax after long days of poring over old books and deciphering symbols until her head ached.  
     Every weekend night she worked with Brett on the book, comparing notes over symbols, writing more down, and also helping him grade language papers with a key he gave her. Taking pity on her, he also helped her out with Transfiguration, letting her practice in his room and checking her homework with her. They had an easy, comfortable routine... one that made her teeny, tiny crush on him just that more difficult to bear. But she managed it... by some miracle, at least. But she'd always been good at hiding her emotions.  
     Really, Delilah thought as she ground brimstone and mixed it with cream, the only time-consumer she felt no gratitude from was the baby dragon she'd taken on in Hagrid's class. She'd had him for a month now, and he was every bit as grumpy and snide as she'd expected. She couldn't cajole him, or reason with him, or even yell at him; he just... stayed the same, no matter what. She'd tried about everything but using magical force on him, which was something she'd sworn she'd never do unless totally necessary, but nothing else had worked...  
     _No. Never,_ she told herself as she placed the small iron bowl into the cage of the rapidly-growing beast, who dug into it greedily despite the complaints he always had afterwards. _I'm doing this the real way, like everyone else... even if it kills me trying._  
     _Oh, I assure you, it'd kill you to try that force thing. I'd make sure... you don't piss a dragon off,_ came the dragon's voice from the cage.  
     _Who asked you?_ she retorted, pulling out a book and flipping to a bookmarked page. _If you've got dinner complaints, go ahead and voice them to me while I read. I assure you, I'm listening with the **utmost** regard to your blathering._  
     A pause, then, _All right, **fine**. The brimstone was of less quality than usual, the cream was a little sour, the sulfur was the only passable thing, and you are far too hard on Draco._  
     She lifted her head. "What?"  
     _Oh, shut up. You've got the link; use it. Anyway... he told me not to tell you or anything, but I figure it's for his own safety. Might make people other than Slytherins accept him, anyway._  
     "Yeah, well, whose fault is that? Not mine... I didn't make him into a bleedin' traitor."  
     _Shut **up**. Humans... thinking you're the only ones with something to say._ The dragon sniffed, and scooted closer to her, red eyes blazing. _And maybe you didn't make him... but somebody else did, someone a lot more powerful than him, somebody he's never been able to stand up to in his whole life... and when he did, he got hit right back down. Think about it, bird-girl... then maybe you'll see._ He turned and laid down, his backside facing her, signifying with body language that the conversation was over.  
     There was silence... then it clicked. Delilah almost dropped her book. "Draco's _father_?" she whispered tremulously.

||[back to top][5]||  
  
  
  
**Chapter Twenty  
**Confession

_"You shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you mad." Aldous Huxley_

     The day started out quite normally for Draco Malfoy. He woke up in the Slytherin dungeons... gave an obligatory hello to Pansy, and a kiss on the cheek... met Crabbe and Goyle in the common rooms to crack a few Mudblood jokes... and headed to the Great Hall to have breakfast, then he was on his way to Care of Magical Creatures.  
     Then, Delilah Riddle came down to talk to Hagrid; both looked his way, and Hagrid motioned Draco over from his creature. "'Lila here says that Flitwick wants ter see yeh. An' since yeh seem ter be gettin' along well... go on an' go with 'er."  
     "Let me just climb down the beanstalk..." he said loudly as he packed, getting titters from the girls and some grunts from the boys. Glancing sideways at Delilah, he checked her reaction; instead of the annoyance he expected, she just looked... calm, really, with her two blue strands hanging down on her face and her aqua eyes focused on him. It was too bad... she was cute when she was mad.  
     "So, Riddle... what does the midget want me for?" asked Draco carelessly as they went down the hall, her leading the way.  
     "Oh, that... I'm not sure," she replied, looking back at him. "He... didn't really say."  
     Draco stood still in the hallway. "Total bollocks," he stated. "You're lying to me... I can tell. So cut the bullshit, Riddle."  
     "My name is Delilah. Now come on." When he stayed there, she arched her eyebrow and said, "If you don't come with me, I'll make sure the entire school finds out about your New Kids on the Block knickers."  
     "I don't own New Kids knickers!"  
     Her smile was smug and a little unnerving. "Are you certain about that?"  
     "Fine, I'll go... but only because I'm curious as to why you lied to Hagrid and skipped class to talk to me in private. Wait..." He looked at her suspiciously. "You're not going to try and snog me, are you? Oh, that's right... you and Potter."  
     Delilah snorted. "Harry and I are not an item... and were I going to snog you, I'd do it with a paper bag and in a better location than an abandoned classroom."  
     "Pity--for a Mudblood, you're not too horrid-looking."  
     "Make that two bags." She opened the door. "C'mon in."  
     He hung back. "How do I know you're not going to ambush me or something?"  
     "You don't. You'll just have to trust me."  
     Snorting, Draco sauntered into the room. Delilah shut the door behind them, muttered, "Lumos totalus!", and the room filled with light. She gestured to a chair. "Go on, sit down."  
     Sweeping back his robes, Draco sat and assumed a lounging position. "All right, Riddle... you got me here, shut the door, there's no hope of me escaping... what do you want?"  
     Sitting on a desk, she looked down, a blue and a black curl falling across her cheek to twine around each other. "Once, when I was five, I was playing out in the yard--you know, common things, except minus the wand and all. Having fun and making mud pies while Mum and Dad watched the telly. And I got thirsty... but I waited, because I didn't want to be underfoot. They'd already made it apparent they... weren't quite fond of me. My little brother, Jason, was about one... and he was walking around in this Muggle contraption with wheels and a seat and such--you know the kind? Probably not--anyway--I finally got so thirsty that I couldn't stand it, so I rinsed myself off and ran inside for some juice... and I went so fast that I knocked over Jason in his little wheelie-thing. As I recall, he got a bump on his head."  
     She pulled up the sleeve on her robe to reveal a series of scars. "I got the first one of these," she said softly. "Dad was smoking a cigar when it happened... he turned purple, pulled my arm to him, yelled, and took it out of his mouth, and he put it in his hand, and while my mum comforted Jason..." A tear slipped from her eye and down her cheek. "Burnt me like a chip in hot grease. I damn near passed out... probably did, come to think of it. That was also when I first realized that they treated Jason... a bit differently, to put it mildly."  
     "Why are you telling me this?" asked Draco. Sure, that was a rotten thing to do, but what...  
     She looked up at him, eyes bright. "I'm not going to tell, or judge, but I've been there... and if you need empathy..."  
     "Are you implying something?" His voice was notably colder.  
     "No. I'm saying it flat-out. I think that... that last Halloween, he--and you know the he I'm talking about--used the Imperius Curse on you. Or someone else did, they controlled you like a puppet... _and he didn't do anything to stop it_."  
     Throughout her speech, Draco grew sheet white, then two spots of color appeared on his cheeks. She knew dully that he was embarrassed, and in denial, and furious... but she had to get it out, had had to since yesterday. And when she was done, she just looked at him, letting the pain show in her eyes, letting him rise and stand above her, fist raised, letting him punch her if need be. She healed well.  
     "Who in the _fuck_ asked you to meddle in my life?" he hissed. "You're nothing but a sad little busybody, imagining ghosts at every end, thinking you're so special because of your _powers_."  
     "You can think what you will. But if you'd really like to know... touch me. You've got, let's see, a gouge on your leg, a scab on your arm, and a few bruises here and there from Quidditch... that should take enough time for you to see." She laughed softly at his expression. "I don't suppose you'd know--when I heal someone with my power, we do a memory switcharoo. I've got a few snatches of Harry left, along with some Voldemort... nutter that he is. And I know they've got pieces of me, memories we now share... lovely thought, eh? But go ahead... I'm getting slowly used to it."  
     "You're absolutely insane, Mudblood."  
     "Probably. Take my hand and you'll know for sure. Unless you're afraid?" she replied mildly.  
     He took it as the challenge it was meant to be. A determined look set on his face, he reached out and clasped her pale hand in his own. And the world went white.

||[back to top][5]||  
  
  
  
_ OK, so Draco probably would've pulled a Cartman just then and said "Screw you, I'm going home"... but damn it, it has to go with my plot! Everything must! *eye twitches* Wow. I've been on the computer too long. Yeah. Next part should be out soon, with luck...~Phoenix Starfire_

P.S. Don't thank me for getting this part done. Thank jen and Ameera Bulenin (*hopes she got the spelling right*) for getting on my ass about it. A big thanks-for-whipping-my-ass-in-gear to you both. 

   [1]: #chapter17
   [2]: #chapter18
   [3]: #chapter19
   [4]: #chapter20
   [5]: #top



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